My Roommate Is a Wraith
by Holly-Batali
Summary: After a very unusual experience of being in a Hive cell with three Wraith, John Sheppard unwittingly offers assistance if he's ever needed. He has no idea what he's getting himself into. But the Wraith might not be as bad, or as different, as he thought
1. Typical

My Roommate is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I don't own SGA, or Weir would still be in command (amongst other things, mind you; I'm enough of a pessimist that I've got plenty of complaints, even for the greatest show on Earth.) So _there. _

Chapter One: Typical

John Sheppard woke up in the middle of the night and stretched out on top of his bedspread, not remembering how he got there. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, glancing around the room. His watch read 11:47 PM; he sighed and stretched his arms above his head. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, grimacing at the uncomfortable feeling of waking up in jeans. He rubbed his eyes and walked out of his room, the floor pleasantly cool beneath his socks.

John walked out onto the nearest balcony and breathed in heavily; he leaned on the rail and sighed contentedly as a light, cool Atlantis breeze ruffled his sweaty hair. He closed his eyes, trying to recall how he ended up in bed before midnight and in one piece...

Hmm...

There was one of those weird uninhabited planets where the Wraith just _happened _to show up. Laser blasts, dragged to the infirmary, near-death escape, blah blah blah. The usual. He nodded as he remembered taking two stunners; one to the chest, one to the face. Yup. That'd do it. Not that he was really surprised anymore; this kind of stuff happened to him and his team on a pretty regular basis. He remembered going back to sleep in the infirmary after Carson had given him the all-clear. Ronon and Teyla must have carried him to his quarters.

He sighed happily and looked out over the calm ocean waves. This was way better than sitting through a debriefing with Weir and the team. Sure, he loved being around Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon, but he also like to have a little time to himself every once in a while. As the commanding officer of the Atlantis expedition, he vowed to do this more often, but maybe bring some food or something; he was_ starving._

He mentally went over his agenda for the next day; another off-world excursion to yet another uninhabited planet, this one previously explored. Well, uninhabited as far as they had concluded. He racked his brain for a name and number to put to the face...M6H…491? That was it. Why couldn't they just give them real names, ones that could actually be remembered? If Ford were here—John frowned sadly. _Ford _isn't _here. _He told himself firmly. _So just...don't think about it._

* * *

"M6K-491." Weir lay down her tablet and glanced around Sheppard's team. "Remember it?"

A collective head-shake. "Wasn't it that big grassy place with all the plants?" asked John, just wanting to leave.

"Which one?" asked Ronon, sulking in his chair, as per usual.

Sheppard nodded in agreement as Elizabeth continued with the usual 'come back in one piece', 'try not to change the entire government of a race', and the universal 'try not to kill anyone or be killed.'

"Yup, back before dinner," John agreed, anxious and excited to get off-world again. "Come on team, let's go."

They left the conference room, waited for the Stargate to open up, and stepped through. Despite what Rodney said about it, Sheppard found traveling through the Event Horizon pleasant; he even liked the sound, which McKay described as 'plastic forks on a chalkboard'.

As he stepped out of the EH, Sheppard took in the golden light on the treetops, his team unpacking equipment, and the tall, moist grass. "Not a bad place," he muttered.

"Indeed, it is not." Agreed Teyla, coming to stand next to him. "It is unfortunate that we so often have peaceful moments like this one."

Sheppard nodded. "Yeah. I have a feeling it won't last long, though." _Especially not now that you've _said it out loud, _smart one. _He gave Teyla a smile and walked towards the woods, stopping on the border. He turned back to the group, some distance away. He activated his radio; "This is Sheppard; I'm gonna do a border check real fast, make sure there aren't any nasty surprises."

He waited a moment for the reply. "_I'll come with you, just in case_," he heard Ronon's voice and smiled, knowing that the Satedan was itching to do something useful.

"I'll wait for you," he answered. "Expect us back in fifteen. Sheppard out." He deactivated his radio and put both hands on his P90, waiting for Ronon. As was usual with the ex-Runner, he didn't take long.

"Seen anything yet?" he asked gruffly.

"Negative. Take a walk?" He brusquely walked ahead, reveling in the freedom of it all. No paperwork, no alarms, no Wraith, no Rodney...

"They never shut up, do they?" asked Ronon suddenly. "Is that just a scientist thing?"

Sheppard thought about it for a moment. "Nah, that's just Rodney..." He stopped walking and thought for a moment. "Actually…yeah, that _is _a scientist thing. Huh." He shook his head and kept walking; Ronon smiled and chuckled.

"So how long are we here?"

"Dunno. Weir wants an analysis of the planet in general, Zelenka and Beckett want plant and mineral samples—" he broke off as something in the grass to his right moved noisily. Ronon's blaster was out and aimed before Sheppard's P90 had even had a chance to come up to his shoulder. But before Ronon could blast a hole in them, three Wraith warriors were out of the bushes and on the offensive.

Sheppard fired off a round on his P90 while Ronon fired his blaster for all it was worth. Sheppard activated his radio; "We've got Wraith! Three of 'em, down, the border about a quarter-mile north." Ronon paused to jump behind the nearest tree, grabbing Sheppard by his collar and hauling him off his feet. John landed with a thud on the ground at Ronon's feet, who was still firing. He looked up, disoriented for a moment.

"Wha' was that for?" he grumbled, sitting up to get aim at the nearest Wraith.

"You were right in the line of fire."

"Oh. Okay, then." Sheppard radio crackled and he answered it. "Yeah."

McKay's panicked voice spilled out. _"What do you want us to do?"_

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Gee, some backup might be nice when you have the time." He fired off another round and the nearest Wraith went down.

_"Davies is going to stay to dial the gate but we'll be right there...Uh, just give me a second to find you. McKay out."_

"He's no help," Ronon remarked, blasting the second Wraith, who dropped like a stone.

"Tell me about it," Sheppard muttered, his voice lost in the heavy fire, sucking in a breath as a stunner zoomed past his head. "Should we wait for him? Or should we just make a break for the gate. The woods shouldn't be too hard to run through, and the Wraith'll have quite a time trying to hit us through these trees; they're huge."

Ronon took another shot. "McKay's no help anyway," he said tonelessly. "Let's go." He fired off one more shot, and Sheppard let his P90 fire off another round before he followed Ronon into the trees.

"McKay," he yelled into his radio. "Go back to the gate, we'll meet up with you there."

_"Idiot."_

"Sheppard out." He regretted now saying that running through the underbrush wouldn't be too hard. This was the third time in less than a minute that he'd fallen flat on his face. "Ronon," he sputtered. "Which way to the Gate? I lost track of where we were going." Normally, he would have been humiliated to admit this, but right now he didn't particularly care. There were Wraith (with reinforcements now), they were being shot at, and he was flat on his face again—clearly, humiliation was not an issue at the present time.

"This way." said Ronon, swerving suddenly to the right. Sheppard stumbled as he avoided crashing headlong into a tree, and followed suit. Sure enough, the two of them broke out into the clear, and there was the Gate, not sixty feet ahead.

"DAVIES!" Screamed Sheppard and the top of his lungs. "DIAL THE GATE!" He would have added a few profanities, but he didn't have the breath for it. Sergeant Davies jumped and hastily slammed the runes on the DHD, then slamming his open palm down on the center. The now-familiar wormhole opened and Sheppard jumped as another Wraith stunner skimmed past him, ruffling his hair (much to his displeasure).

McKay and his assorted assistants scrambled through the long grass to Sheppard's right, heading to the gate. Sergeant Davies threw himself into the Event Horizon as a Stunner flew past him. McKay and his group reached the gate, and Sheppard waved them forward. He turned to run backwards for a stretch so he could fire off another round, finishing off the magazine. All three Wraith were up again, and they didn't look too friendly.

"Right behind you," he screamed at Ronon, who nodded and hurled himself through the gate with a few more shots at the approaching life-suckers. Sheppard faced the gate again and ran for all he was worth. He cried out as a Wraith stunner clipped him on the shoulder, and he swerved slightly. He was starting to feel dizzy, and then another blast hit him, squarely on the back. He went sprawling, his face inches from the rippling Event Horizon.

He groaned. "Oh come _on._" He tried to pull himself forward the last few inches, but a heavy black boot came crashing down on his spine. He struggled.

"None of that," said a mechanical voice filled with annoyance. "You _must _stay for dinner; I insist."

With the last of his consciousness, Sheppard looked up into the face of his captor. "Well, if you _insist._" he managed. Then his head fell forward to the ground. _Yup, _he thought wearily. _Typical. Sooo typical._

__Original upload date: 6/8/08  
Edited chapter upload date: 11/20/12


	2. SILENCE!

Chapter 2: SILENCE!

The only thing Sheppard could think when he woke up with yet another gut-wrenching headache was, _I've really got to stop making a habit of this. _He'd given up trying to keep track of how many times he'd been knocked over the head, thrown into walls or other various (but very much solid) objects, shot at, shot, and all around getting the snot beat out of him. He frowned, his eyes still closed as he realized that it was dark-wherever he was. He had no idea how long he was out; it was almost sundown when the Wraith clocked him. _The Wraith. _

Had they just left him? Or...

He could hear voices around him. Metallic, Vader-like voices...

"Whasa matter with you? You stupid?"

"No, I'm just saying."

"Well don't!" To someone else, "you think _you_ can understand this idiot?"

"I don't think I know if I can." Someone laughed and then there was a hollow _smack._

"Ow! Hey, whad'ya do that for?"

"You were being an idiot again."

_They sound like the Three Stooges, _thought Sheppard absently. Then his frown deepened. _Those voices...oh come _on_!_

He braced himself and opened an eye. Yup. Wraith Hive Ship. Again.

He _really _had to stop making a habit of this.

But the voices; they didn't fit in. He turned, still lying on his stomach and stared. He blinked. He was watching _Wraith _argue like the Three Stooges. They were the same Wraith who had clocked him earlier. But if they were in charge, why were the four of them in a _cell_? _Wait...In a cell with a-_three_-Wraith. And I'm not dinner?_

He groaned, the sound muffled by the floor. "Something is seriously wrong here." _A lot of somethings, actually._

"Whoa buddy, take it easy." Sheppard never thought he'd hear a Wraith sound like he had a New York accent.

"Easy?" Sheppard sat bolt upright. Easy? I'm in a Hive Ship, sharing a cell with three Wraith who are acting like the Three Stooges, and who will probably _eat me, _and you tell me to _take it easy?_

Was what he wanted to say at the moment—but he had a feeling that would sound just a little bit whiny; and for the great John Sheppard, that just would not do.

"Look, Larry," he said, addressing the Wraith who had spoken. "Can I call you Larry? Well, I find it somewhat disturbing that I'm here in the first place. Now, why don't you be nice, and just drop me off at the nearest Stargate. I can dial my own way home, and we can just forget this ever happened. Okay?"

"Good one," said another one. He gave a strange cackle. _Definitely Curly. _That Three Stooges marathon night last week was having some serious consequences-especially on Sheppard's sanity.

"Now lookie here, buddy," said the last one (Moe). "You're here as a guest, see? It's—"

"Well technically," Larry interrupted, "we're not on our own ship. We got caught up in an enemy culling beam and—"

"Shut up, you!" yelled Moe, smacking Larry on the head.

Sheppard blinked. _This is a little too weird, even for me._

"Okay. So let me get this straight: You captured me on M6K-4—ah, on that planet, planning on...?"

"Bringing you back to our Hive by request of our superior superiors?" offered Larry.

"Yeah, sure. And then...?"

"We didn't notice the dart that was coming for us and then we got caught up in an enemy culling beam?" suggested Curly.

"Okay," Sheppard agreed, the words forced. _This goes waaay beyond strange. _"So then we got stuck in here and we're waiting for...what, exactly?"

"For the resident Hive Queen to bring us to the Great Hall in their Hive—where we are now—and probably get the life sucked out of us." finished Moe. Though sounding far too cheery than the situation merited. Then he smirked, "of course, that's what _would _happen if the Wraith in our Hive weren't so advanced from these...these..."

"Neanderthals?" Sheppard offered.

"Yeah, those!" Moe paused. "Okay, I give up. Wha'sa Neanderthal?"

Sheppard shook his head, exasperated. "Oh forget it. Continue, please—"

He was interrupted as the sound of footfalls reached his ears. He scrambled to an upright position and walked slowly backwards. Three Wraith, two of them guards, entered the cell. The Wraith in front sneered at the cell's occupants and said disdainfully, "The queen wants you in the Great Hall." Sheppard blinked in surprise. _Since when do the Wraith talk to m—oh. Right. Since the Three Stooges here. _

"Depends," said John with a casual shrug; at this point, he had ceased to care. "Does she want to talk, or does she just want to suck the life out of us and have us die the most painful death this side of the Pegasus Galaxy all—"

"Silence!" hissed the Wraith, his eyes wide at this newest insubordination. He motioned brusquely to the guards, who moved forward into the cell, grabbing Sheppard by the arms and dragging him out of the cell at stunner-point; Larry, Curly, and Moe followed. John yawned, mentally snickering at the annoyed eye-twitch of the Wraith. He decided that his task now was to get that Wraith to the point where he lost his mind completely; he _was _Sheppard, after all. He'd done it before, he could _certainly_ do it again, if only to entertain himself and his fellow inmates.

"Nice place you got here," he commented cheerfully as they passed through yet another hallway lined by lifeless, cobweb-covered corpses. "I like what you've done with it, really. Was it just a spur-of-the-moment thing, or did you get the idea from Better Homes and Hive Ships?' I hear they had a _wonderful _article last month: 'Life-Sucking Inspired Centerpieces', was it? But it may have been 'Corpse Clutter.'" he feigned a frustrated sigh. "See, it's these _little things_ that I can never get straight in my head!"

"SILENCE!" yelled the Wraith, seething with anger. Sheppard heard his fellow 'inmates' snicker behind him.

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, are you more of a 'Bloodsucker Times' kind of guy? Or do you secretly read 'Leech Weekly: to suck, or not to suck'?" Larry, Curly, and Moe's snickers were now muffled laughs, and Sheppard himself was trying hard to keep a straight face. "Of course, it may be hard to get the paper, way out here in the—"

"SILENCE!" bellowed the Wraith again, coming to a complete halt. _Nice, _thought Sheppard appreciatively. _This is record time for driving someone up the wall...with the exception of Rodney, of course._

Sheppard held up his hands in a 'whoa, Nellie' gesture. "My apologies. Didn't mean to get you upset, Don. Can I call you Don? You look like a Don to me, Don. So Don, how're you and Mrs. Don and little Don Junior doing? I hear that the Don Wraith Corporation is doing very well, and I am _glad _to hear it! I meant to ask you last time I got sucked up in a culling beam, but could I get that recipe of Mrs. Don's? You know, that great Leech Truffle one? That really hit the spot, believe you me—"

"_SILENCE!_" Don bellowed at the top of his lungs. Then he turned and dove head-long into the nearest room, slamming the web-door shut behind him (_can he slam those?_). Sheppard smiled proudly while his fellow detainees roared with laughter.

"Well, that didn't take long at all, did it."

"What'd ya do to him?" said Curly with a cackle.

"Nothin'." said Sheppard innocently. Then he looked up as alarms began to sound. "Okay, I did _not _do that, I swear…this time."

Moe looked far too innocent. "Well, well. If it isn't the superior Hive to the rescue."

* * *

Authors Note: Confession time. I subscribe to Leech Weekly as well. Don, you're not alone! Review please. How do you like it? Obvious stupidity aside, of course.

* * *

Original upload date: 6/9/08  
Edited chapter upload date: 11/20/12


	3. Crash Course

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything SG related (however embarrassing that is to admit). Can we finish rubbing it in already and get to the Wraith character-bashing please? Thank you.

Chapter Three: Crash Course

John shrugged at Moe's remark, not even stopping to think how bizarre this whole thing was; he, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, was relaxed (mostly) in the presence of _three Wraith. _It was so far beyond any crazy situation he had even conjured up.

But then again, he'd worked with Todd...but that was to save his own skin, not Todd's. Plus, he didn't really want to become a permanent snack bar for the Wraith, so he might as well have escaped while Todd was still somewhat weak...somewhat. He'd seen what he'd done to those Genii.

"Hey, buddy, you coming?" Sheppard jumped and turned to see Larry waiting for him. John paused, and then shrugged indifferently.

"Why not?" _I've got nothing better up my sleeve. For now._

John in the lead, the four of them running to where the Dart bay usually was. _Unless, of course, they scrambled the blueprints for version 2.0._

"_Here_!" he shouted triumphantly, coming to an abrupt halt—not a smart move with a slippery floor and three Wraith right behind you running full tilt to wherever you're going. With a yelp, they all went down in a heap and struggled to disentangle their various limbs. "Get your elbow out of my face, Curly!" John shouted. "Or...Larry...or, whoever the—"

"There!" shouted Moe, pointing towards the dart bay.

Within two minutes—with limited injuries—they succeeded in commandeering two darts. Sheppard climbed into the cockpit of the first one, Moe right behind him. "I'm driving!" he shouted unnecessarily. Larry jumped into the 'driver's seat' of the second dart.

"Hey, guy, how do you drive this thing?"

"Just follow my lead!" yelled Sheppard, his eyes glued to the controls in front of him. "Craaap," he hissed. "It's all in Wraith." Then he brightened a bit; _but now that I've got myself a translator. _"Oi! Moe!" He swiveled in his seat to look at his Wraith gunner, who pointed to himself in the universal 'who, me?' gesture. "What's this say?" Moe leaned forward.

"Says 'Self-Destruct, DO NOT TOUCH.' Why?"

"Oh, good. I thought that was the ignition." He turned to the next button, muttering, "Never trust the shiny red button. Okay, what about this one?"

"Ignition."

"Oh. Trust the menacing-looking black thing, then. Figures." He flicked the black switch and smirked in satisfaction as the control panels lit up and the sound of the sub light engines hummed to life. He leaned out of the cockpit, just before it sealed and yelled to Larry. "Radio, channel three!"

"Get yourself strapped in," he said to Moe, doing the same for himself. "This is gonna be a bumpy ride. Just the way I like it," he added in an undertone. The Wraith radio—which, he had to admit, was quite nice—blipped to life and Larry's voice filled Sheppard's dart.

"_Hey, guy, how do I turn this thing on_?" Sheppard rolled his eyes.

"Flip the 'ignition' switch, the black one on the top-right of the right control panel. Then close up the cockpit..." he walked Larry through the piloting systems of the dart and then—_finally_—they got out of the Hive. It wasn't until they were out that Sheppard realized that he had no idea where they were going.

"_Well, it definitely wouldn't be smart to go straight to our Hive—which is the one blasting the crap out of the Hive we just left—while we're in enemy darts_." explained Curly. "_So we're gonna land on that planet down there,_" he pointed to a sandy-looking sphere in the space to their left, "_and send out a distress beacon. Then we'll take it from there. I guess you're still our prisoner, though_…"

"Wait just a minute!" said a very indignant Sheppard. "You can't honestly expect me to go with you guys to a _Hive Ship? _Look, just drop me off at the nearest Stargate and I'll be fine, really! I appreciate the help with the escape and all, but if you'd left me and my team alone in the first place, none of this would have ever happened."

"_But_—"

Sheppard cut off Larry as quickly as he could. "No. Look, the way I see it, you guys owe me _big time. _Not only did I save your skinny butts from those Wraith guards, but I got you guys out of the Hive. How about I 'Gate out of here and you guys go home, and then we'll just forget that this ever happened, okay?"

They lapsed into silence as John led the way down to the planet, wondering if it even _had _a Stargate on it. _It'd better, _he thought menacingly. _I'm way overdue for a bit of luck. Sure, I got stupid, weak-minded Wraith instead of hungry, malnourished Wraith, but I still got Wraith._

He yelped in surprise as an enemy dart fired at him, catching his right wing. "Moe, you got those weapons online?" he asked, quickly flicking switches and making adjustments.

"What weapons?"

Sheppard stopped himself from losing control altogether. "Oh, for cryin'—you've got two pulsed energy cannons, use 'em!" He barely registered Moe's mumbled ''Kay, here they are," before he said, "Hang on tight, get ready to fire on my command, and my command _only_." He felt like he was training a bunch of green marines; they were all so naive...

He braked the dart as suddenly as he could, and his opponent raced past him. Sheppard accelerated and quickly came up behind the enemy dart, which was attempting to shake him. "Wait till I can lock on," he called to his co-pilot. "Wait for it...wait..._now!_" he gave a tight smile as the blindingly bright pulsed energy bursts tore the dart to pieces, sending space debris everywhere. Sheppard pulled up and out of the way to avoid the minor after-shock and the scrap-metal.

"_YES_!" he heard through the radio. "_You_ _go, guy_!" whooped Larry. Sheppard grinned as he heard Curly cheer in the background. Moe leaned forward over John's seat.

"You know, guy, we don't even know you name." _Uh-oh._

Sheppard considered for a moment. This _was _the enemy, after all. Wasn't it? _Sheppard...Shep_...the Three Stooges came again to mind.

"Call me Shemp," he said with another tight smile. _This is just getting better and better._

* * *

Authors Note: If you'll all remember, Shemp is the Stooge that replaced Curly. Not as good as our Sheppard, but it'll have to do. So, now we have _four _Stooges. Sort of. And I did my research; I went downstairs yesterday and watched 45 minutes of the Three Stooges. See? I'm learning.

* * *

Original chapter published 6/10/08  
Revised chapter published 11/10/12


	4. Return Trip

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate, okay? If I did, then it would have more Todd, Steve, Bob, et cetera (despite the fact that two out of three of those Wraith are inconveniently dead, that is.) Now--on to the crazy pointlessness of the whole insane ordeal. Once more into the gate, my friends!

Chapter 4: Return Trip

"Hey, thanks for letting me out of here, guys," said Sheppard, nodding towards Moe and his companions. He wasn't sure how long he had been gone. It was dawn, but he doubted if it was only a night. After all, they were on a different planet than the one they had started on. _Time flies when you're trying to avoid almost-certain death._

"No problem," said Larry. "We really owed you one, especially after the whole dart thing." Moe and Curly nodded in agreement. It was strange, really. Sheppard hadn't met a Wraith who honored debts since...well, since the whole Kolya mess. Then again, it could just be that these three were just plain stupid. But it was kind of...endearing, almost. "Look," he said before he knew what he was doing, "if you guys ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Moe smiled tightly. "We may not have a way to find you right away, but if we _do _need you, we can contact you."

"Yeah?" Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "I'll look forward to it." he shocked himself by realizing that he partially meant it too, and not in a menacing way, either. He paused before saying, "Well, I guess this is it. Nice having a misadventure with you guys." He saluted to them. "Well; Moe, Larry, Curly; see you sometime."

"Good meeting you, guy." said Larry.

"See you soon," said Curly with a nod.

Moe reached up and grasped Sheppard's shoulder, ignoring the colonel tensing under his long, tapered fingers. "See you sometime, Shemp."

Sheppard paused, then reached up and clasped Moe's shoulder in return. "Take care, Moe."

He waited until the two darts were out of sight before turning to the DHD and dialing Atlantis's gate address. "Time to go home," he muttered.

* * *

Contrary to apparently-popular belief, Elizabeth Weir was not a patient person. Especially when her commanding officer happened to get himself abducted by the Wraith and leaving no way to find him again. She was at wit's end--Rodney wouldn't stop talking (more than usual)--Ronon was pacing like a caged animal, and beating the hell out of any marine stupid enough to challenge him to a sparring match; Teyla was losing sleep and getting a bit waspish, though still taking on extra duties. Carson was frantic that they'd have a medical emergency on their hands at any moment, and she herself was worried sick. After three days of this, Elizabeth was about ready to snap. If it didn't stop sometime soon, she was going to take one of those spare Beretta's and show the new recruits exactly how--

_"Off-World Activation."_

She jumped at the control area announcement, and then leaped to her feet, sprinting towards the primary systems. Ronon and Teyla beat her to the punch, and were already in the Gate Room, armed and ready.

Rodney jogged over to where Elizabeth was standing behind Chuck and asked in a voice of forced calm, "Do we have an IDC yet?"

"Not yet," answered Chuck without looking up. "Standing by for identification." they waited tensely; the marines with Ronon and Teyla in the Gate Room, weapons trained on the rippling event horizon, Dr.'s Weir and McKay in the control room, and the technicians and a medical team standing by. "Receiving IDC," said Chuck suddenly. He glanced in surprise up at Elizabeth. "It's Colonel Sheppard!"

"Lower the shield!" yelled Elizabeth over the blaring alarm. "And turn off that alarm!" She and McKay took the stairs two at a time to get to the Gate Room. The shield dissipated and everyone waited tensely.

The EH shimmered and rippled as a figure in black stepped through. Unarmed and in his short-sleeved button-up black uniform shirt, walked Colonel John Sheppard, completely at ease, hands in his pockets.

"Well, well," he said casually. "If it isn't the welcoming committee." Elizabeth could see the relief in his face though, and the marines lowered their weapons as the Stargate closed behind their CO.

As Teyla touched foreheads with John, Ronon slapped him on the back, and McKay stuttered at him, Elizabeth smiled and said, "welcome home, Colonel. I assume you have a _very _good explanation for us? You _have _been missing in action for the past three days."

His eyebrows rose slightly. "Three days? Really? I didn't think it was that long; but then again, time passes a little quickly when you're on a Hive Ship sharing a cell with three Wraith who miraculously decided not to have you for dinner."

He suppressed a laugh with difficulty at the astonishment and dropped jaws of his team and the marines. He settled for his signature raised eyebrow.

"Bloody hell," he heard Carson breath from the 'medical corner.'

"I second that," Elizabeth managed. "You have quite the report to write up, Colonel."

He breathed out a sigh of relief. "Oh, you have _no _idea."

* * *

John Sheppard sighed as he leaned against the headboard of his bed, his laptop balanced on his knees. His report was going very fast, all things considered; although it was pretty strange, writing about the three Wraith. He was actually writing this as though it was one big joke. He'd locked himself up to avoid any visitors, and so far it had worked. Until Ronon had radioed him to warn him that McKay was on his way--which was the _last _thing he needed at the moment.

Sheppard gathered the tools necessary for a quick escape--laptop, power bars, notebook, headphones--and stuffed them into a black bag, which he swung over his shoulder. Opening his door, he glanced from side to side, just to make sure that he wouldn't be spotted. He bolted out of the door, running as if his life depended on it. Well, his sanity certainly did. After such a bizarre experience, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to get a scientific view on it. _Especially _not from McKay; the guy just didn't know when to shut up! As much as Sheppard needed him on his team--and even enjoyed it a bit--he wasn't quite ready to have McKay giving him grief about any of this.

Rounding a corner, he staggered back as he saw McKay himself striding purposely towards him. Not having been noticed yet, Sheppard changed direction quickly, running towards the infirmary, already making up whatever story he could for Beckett. _I have a headache. I had an out-of-body experience. I started seeing the future. I think I have the retrovirus again. I've been hallucinating; seeing gnomes dancing on a little stage, and when I looked again they were gone. Do _you_ know the song they were singing? It was like a sort of--_

"Excuse me, Colonel Sheppard?" John jumped, his things clattering to the floor.

"Oh! Hi, um, McKay's assistant?" it was more of a question than anything else.

"Miko, yes. I was wondering if you could help me with a research project of mine." she looked embarrassed and nervous, and she pushed her glasses up higher to try and cover her awkwardness. "You see, I've been trying to get a certain device working, but I do not have the ATA gene and Dr. Kusanagi cannot get it to work either. I was told that you have the strongest gene among the expedition, and I as wondering if you would consider--"

"Does McKay know about the project?" he asked, suddenly struck by inspiration.

She looked surprised. "Of course! But he has taken no interest in it, he says that he was very important work to do and I should work on it."

Sheppard grinned. "Why yes, I would _love _to help, Miko."

* * *

Authors Note: Tsk tsk, Sheppard. What are you up to now? Friends with the Wraith? Oh my. What next, getting McKay his coffee?


	5. Help For Hire

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate. I've said it four times already, so can we get to the point here? Now--on to randomness.

WARNING: contains extreme stupidity (I'm talking the whole story, not just a chapter). Read at your own risk of insanity. On that happy note...

Chapter 5: Help For Hire

"Okay...so, I'm supposed to think about...what?"

Miko continued to type on her laptop, not even looking up as she said, "please think about the Stargate. Not a particular address, but wormhole travel. The feel and the sound and anything you may see while traveling."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "Well, what's the point in that?"

Miko stopped typing and thought. "In truth, we don't quite know. We are _hoping, _however, that there will be some sort of connection between the data consoles and the..." Sheppard zoned out instinctively, leaning back in the control chair, glancing up at the network of stars his mind conjured up. _Think about the Stargate? How can I think about the Stargate when all I've _been _thinking about is my temporary alliance with the Life-Suckers. Well, that and a decent sandwich. When was the last time I actually ate a--_

He cut off that particular train of thought as he felt a slight pressure on his temples. _The chair. _John cocked his head to the side, eyes still closed. _What're you trying to tell me? _Great. As if talking to the jumpers wasn't bad enough; now he was talking to a chair. A very _impressive, _and _comfortable _chair, but a chair all the same.

He tried to think about the Stargate, but instead he acted on impulse, thinking about the Wraith he had encountered. And there they were! Just walking along the halls of a Hive Ship, arguing about...something; it was still fuzzy to him. He concentrated even harder.

"...we don't get moving fast enough, we're going to have a real problem on our hands," said Moe seriously. The three Wraith turned a corner and walked into a control room of sorts. "We aren't exactly on friendly terms with that Hive, if you remember. And what with the majority of our weapons systems being off-line, we can't really do anything but run as fast as we can until we get a suitable replacement for the technician we lost the other day." They reached the control panels and Moe began punching in commands. "I mean, most of us don't even know how to fly a dart! How are we supposed to--"

"Wait a second." Larry cut him off, looking--Sheppard couldn't help but think--like an excited Rodney McKay. "Shemp."

The others stopped. _Oh crap._

"_He _could fly a dart; the saw the way he flew. He did say that if we needed help..."

Moe stopped typing for a moment and thought. "Yeah," he said uncertainly. "But we have no way of contacting him anyway. Plus, he didn't really seem like the Wraith-buddy type, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah..." they stood for a moment, lost in thought.

"I got it." said Larry, snapping his fingers. John was once again reminded of a Wraith version of McKay. "We ask _Him._"

Moe looked confused. "'Him'? You mean Shemp? That's the whole problem here, you moron. We _can't _ask Shemp--"

"You're not listening to me," Larry said, aggravated. "By 'Him', I mean the guy in charge. You know, the guy who went missing then came back years later. He said he met a guy and sucked him just about dry, then he gave it all back. The last time that happened, that human and Wraith were able to communicate telepathically. Don't you guys remember that story?"

"He's on a Hive not far from here, and it's one we're actually friendly with," Curly jumped in, taking over the console. "He might be willing to help us out if we put in something for _his _Hive in return."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Contact him!" Moe snapped. "This'll work; like I said, we're the best..."

* * *

"...Colonel Sheppard!"

John sat bolt upright, his eyes tearing open. "What?! What is it? If Ronon says anything about me, don't listen to him. It was his fault, I swear!" Sheppard said in a rush. He looked around at the concerned and now-confused scientists surrounding him. "Oh. Hi."

"Wha' 'ave you done now?' John was pushed down to lie on the floor again and frowned in confusion.

"Carson? What're you doing here?"

Carson Beckett looked at him in astonishment. "Wha' am I doin' here? Tryin' to get you breathing again, tha's wha' I'm doin' here." John took a closer look at the people surrounding him. Carson, Elizabeth, Rodney, Teyla, Ronon, Miko, and all of scientists who were here in the first place.

He stared around the room for a moment. "Hello," he said. They just stared at him. He cleared his throat nervously and tried to sit up, but Carson pushed him back down with a muttered "oh no you don't."

Then Sheppard remembered the Hive Ship; the conversation. He jumped to his feet with a muttered, "oh, crap!" He looked around and ran for the exit, despite the shouts and exclamations of the science team.

"Sheppard!" yelled McKay. "Where do you think you're going?" _No idea, but I'll let you know when I do, how about that?_

Sheppard ran into the nearest transporter and got off at the pier farthest from the lab. _I need air. _In truth, what he really needed was to hit something, hard and repeatedly. Preferably McKay, but a wall might do, too. He sat down stiffly and leaned back on his hands, the sea breeze ruffling his hair.

"Why do I get the feeling," he mumbled to himself, "that it won't be quiet for long?"

If the Wraith were looking for him specifically, he was screwed.

_Sooo incredibly screwed._

* * *

Authors Note: Yes, I know. It's short, and it's not all that interesting, but I'll get up a better--and hopefully longer--one soon. Sorry I didn't update the other day, but I got the season three Stargate Atlantis DVD's and I stayed up all night and watched every episode, no breaks.


	6. Talking to the Voice

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I don't own SGA (for the sixth time). I don't own the Three Stooges, either.

WARNING: contains extreme stupidity. Read at risk of insanity. Enjoy.

Chapter 6: Talking to the Voice

John Sheppard was one lucky man.

He knew that everyone thought he was bonkers after his chair episode, but Elizabeth still agreed to let him go offworld; and Carson even kept the poking and needles to an all-time low. It was like some twisted Christmas had come early.

"All right, John; looks like you're clear to go." Elizabeth stood next to John and his team as they got ready to head out on another reconnaissance mission.

"Back in time for dinner," he replied.

She raised an eyebrow. "And don't forget; no destroying entire government systems, no burnnig down buildings, _don't kill anyone, _and please, for the love of all that's holy, _don't come back as arms dealers. _Again."

"Don't worry," said John, holding back a smirk with difficulty. "We'll be good. Right Ronon? Rodney?" he recieved a neutral expression from Ronon; Rodney gave him an 'I'd kill you, but I'm too brilliant to waste the time' look. "Right, let's go!"

As the familiar whoosh of the wormhole activation sounded, John looked over the Gate Room again. "Move out!" he said, following his team through the event horizon.

* * *

"You know, I really don't see the point in doing all these missions if all Elizabeth is going to let me do is scan a few rocks and take back some grass in a petri dish for a botany analysis. Can't she at least let me take a few things back that might actually be useful? I mean, just look at all--"

"McKay," Sheppard groaned, leaning against a crumbling pillar. "Give it a rest already!" He didn't even bother to listen to the scientist's no-doubt-snappy comeback, but just walked away.

"Sheppard, where do you thing you're going!"

"Border check!" John yelled over his shoulder, walking away. "Despite despite how much trouble it got me in trouble last time," he added in an undertone.

He jogged away, anxious for some space to think...He stopped and sighed. _Preferably _without _Ronon trailing me._

Sheppard glanced around discreetly and walked into the nearby woods. It would be easier to lose...why was he trying to lose Ronon in the first place? John rolled his eyes and moved forward; it was weird enough the _Wraith _needed his help. Now he was playing hide and seek with a gun-slinging alien? Well, more or less, anyway. _He's like the Pegasus version of Clint Eastwood--_

_"Shemp?"_

John stopped suddenly, cocking his head to the side. He glanced around. "Moe?"

_"Ya there?"_

John gave his best 'what the hell?' look and ducked behind the nearest tree.

"Moe?" he asked again in the 'what did you do?' tone he usually reserved for McKay when things started blowing up.

_"It worked! Well, I knew it would, I mean, I'm pretty darn smart and, of course, the best--"_

"MOE!"

_"Oh, right, sorry. Look, you know how you said you'd help us out if we needed it?"_

"Yeah," said Sheppard cautiously.

_"We need it."_

Sheppard rubbed his temples in a now-familiar gesture. "Okay, what do you want?"

_"Well, see, we've got this problem--"_

"Yes, obviously." Sheppard took a moment to realize that Ronon was probably watching him, and most likely thought he'd lost it. _Think he'll buy it if I tell him that it was the lasagna at lunch? That stuff is pretty toxic. And Rodney _did _dare me to eat it. Maybe if I throw in a few--_

_"Our Hive is stranded in space."_

Sheppard blinked. _Didn't see that one coming._

_"We're stuck here, can't move. We'd fly to another Hive for assistance, but we're not really on friendly terms with anyone right now. And our mechanic died in that attack, you know, the one where we escaped. See, you're one of the only one's who knows how to fly darts and ships and stuff, so we could really use your help. I mean, you'd be free to walk around and everything, since you'd be helping us out and all. If you like, we can even get you your own quarters and--"_

"MOE!" Sheppard cut him off. "Relax. I haven't even said yes. Come to think of it, I haven't been able to say anything yet. So _shut up _for a minute, will ya?"

There was a pause. _"Sorry."_

John sighed, trying to sound long-suffering. "I'll need to talk to Eli--to, my leader about it. She'll let me, um, let _you _know, through, uh--ah, screw it. How'll I let you know her answer?"

_"Oh, that's simple! See, I tapped into your brainwave frequency pattern on that Hive while we were there (I mean, come one. It gets boring, and a scientist has to do _something _to pass the time.) So I just input it into my special little invention, a frequency locator, if you will, and was able to pick you up, since the planet you're on is pretty close to where we're stranded. So, that said--"_

"Get to the point, Moe." It was hard not to start banging his head on a tree. _I'm way too nice. I should have just blasted 'em all when I had the chance. Would've saved me some trouble. And now an inevitable session with Kate...she's going to have a field day with this one..._

_"Oh, right, yeah. Well, if you just come back here and start talking to me, then it should work again. I mean, it's not like I'm going anywhere or anything, right?" _He laughed. As far as John could tell, it sounded like a radiator with the hiccups.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll talk to my leader and let you know. So, do I just come back here and talk to you, or what?"

_"Oh, yeah. We'll send down a few people--me among them--and you can give us your answer. Two days sound alright? Great, see you then!"_

"MOE! Moe? Son of a--"

"Sheppard?" John jumped and spun around, where Ronon was looking at him from a group of trees. "Who've you been talking to?"

"Oh, that was just um...Moe. I need to talk to Elizabeth. See you at the 'gate" He backtracked through the woods, running at full tilt_. And maybe Carson and Heighmeyer as well._


	7. Preperations

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Stargate or anything associated to it. Now, if you're done rubbing that in with a dagger and pouring iodine all over it (McKay banned the lemon juice) can we get back to the insanity? Thank you.

WARNING: Contains extreme silliness and stupidity. Proceed at the risk of your own sanity. So in other words (that are a little more blunt), don't come crying to me when your brain is temporarily scrambled by a bunch of stupid Wraith trying to grasp the concept of a Hail-Mary.

Chapter 7: Preperations

"ELIZABETH!"

John was shouting before he was even all the way through the event horizon. He stumbled to a halt, having run full-tilt through the 'gate. He didn't take the time to notice if his team followed or not. He ran up the stairs to the control room.

"ELIZ--"

"What? What is it John?" Sheppard spun around to see Dr. Weir standing behind him, her eyes wide.

Sheppard blinked a few times and stumbled a bit to regain his balance yet again. "Um..hey, how are you?"

Weir raised her eyebrows. "Is everything alright John? What was all that," she nodded to the 'gate and the marine guard by it, "about."

"Oh, that. Yeah, well, see, I just needed to talk to you for a minute, that's all. You know, as quick as possible."

_She looks suspiiiciouuus, _John thought in a sing-song voice.

"Where's the rest of your team, _Colonel?_"

_Definitely suspicious._

"Um, back on...wherever we were. I forgot." Weir narrowed her eyes.

"What's so urgent?"

John raised a finger and then thought better of it, glancing around. "Um, can we talk somewhere else?"

She still looked suspicious, but she led the way to her office nonetheless.

"Okay," she said, sitting down at her desk and folding her arms. "What's all this about?"

John took a deep breath. "When I was on the planet, I went on border patrol and I started hearing Moe in my head." Weir frowned. "You know," Sheppard said, "one of the Wraith that I was stuck with in that cell? Anyway," he plowed on quickly, not bothering to wait for a reply. "He told me that he needed my help and, since I kind of promised him and Larry and Curly that if they ever need any help not to hesitate to ask. Stupid thing to promise a Wraith, I know, but I did and now he needs my help." John stopped his pacing--he hadn't even realized he'd started--and turned to face Weir, who wore a stunned look on her face. She blinked.

"Are you telling me that you offered assistance to a _Wraith?!_"

Sheppard waved his hand impatiently. "That's not really the point. See, Moe needs me to give him an answer in two days, same place, and I need to know whether to play nice and help or go in with some flash-bangs, tasers, P-90's, tear gas, a chopper or two and blast the--"

"JOHN!"

Sheppard stopped and blinked, his fast stopping in mid-air where he had been about to slam it down on Elizabeth's desk.

"Yeah?"

"Just--_stop._" she slumped over her desk and sighed, rubbing her temples. "Let me get this straight. The same Wraith that you were held captive with 'told' you to come onto his Hive Ship and help him out. And you're okay with that? Did they completely scramble your brain on that ship?"

He waved a hand dismissively at her. "Pft. Please. I'm fine. I even _asked your permission before answering. _How's _that _for responsible, huh?" John smiled, looking pleased with himself.

"Well, there's a first time for everything," she remarked. John blinked, not knowing if she meant the Wraith alliance or the asking permission. "All right. Well, I'll contact General Landry, see his take on this. No doubt the IOA will want to get involved. In the meantime, I want you to talk with Kate. No offense John, but I think it'll do you some good."

* * *

John walked into his quarters, exhausted. After the grilling he'd had from Heightmeyer, he'd finally run into his team (despite his efforts not to by hiding in abandoned corridors when they'd walk by). Ronon was miffed, Teyla was confused, and Rodney was...Rodney.

Sheppard shrugged out of his jacket and sighed heavily, tossing it into the corner of his room. It was only seven o'clock, but he'd officially had enough for one day. _That's _another _first. _He faceplanted on his bed, lying there for a minute. Then he groaned and got up.

He took his time in the shower, then changed into a black teeshirt and grey sweatpants, brushed his teeth, and climbed into bed, not really caring about missing dinner--or team movie night. After all, they were just watching the second _Back to the Future. _John sighed contentedly and pulled up the blankets. _I'll come to movie night for the third one, _he promised himself silently. _The third one is the best one..._ His thoughts were interrupted by his own soft snores.

_"Sheeeemp."_

_Go away._

_"Shemp."_

_I _said, _go away!_

_"SHEMP!"_

_I'm not listening!_

_"McKay crashed your Blackhawk. Ronon shot your dog. Teyla said you're an idiot. Weir's sending you back to your planet!"_

_Still not listeniiiing._

_"...football is overrated."_

John bolted upright, sweating and gasping. "Holy nightmare, Batman," he muttered to himself. _He just won't go away! _He had to do something about Moe before he lost his mind...or anymore sleep. But this was Weir's call--right?

"Screw that," he muttered, sliding out of bed.

He walked over to his closet and pulled out a duffel bag and set it open on his bed. He started pulling out armfuls of clothes and sidearms, stuffing them in. He paused, then grabbed the portable DVD player sitting on his nightstand, along with a box of his favorite DVD's. _If I'm going to spend who knows how long on a Hive Ship, then I'm going to be entertained. Might as well educate them... _He rifled through his extra movies, pulliing out ones that might come in handy. _The Three Stooges; The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly; Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy; Star Trek; Batman: the Movie _(the good 60's one) and--oh! He couldn't go without the flyboy classic--_Top Gun._

"Lock and load," he muttered to himself, stuffing in the last of his supplies. He didn't know exactly how long the 'trip' was going to take, but if it came down to it, he could always bring another bag..._do they have Laundermats on Hive Ships? _

Sheppard shook his head in an attempt to clear it, then zipped up the duffel and stashed it behind his guitar.

"I don't know I'm agreeing to this." _Oh well. I'm overdue for a vacation anyways._

_Vacation?! _Screamed the rational part of his brain. _You call that a vacation?!_

_Well sure. I'll be off-duty, I won't have to go to debriefings--I'd _better _not--and I don't have to put up with Rodney. If that's not a damn good definition of 'vacation', then I'm a replicator._

* * *

Authors Note: Sheppard's gonna get in trouuuble! I'd hate to be the one going toe-to-toe with Weir on this one.


	8. Contradictions

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate, okay? How many times do I have to say it? Honestly...

WARNING: Contains extreme silliness and/or stupidity in such quantities that may be hazardous to your health. Make sure you have Carson's retrovirus and a lemon or two handy. Just in case. A squirt bottle might be smart (_someone _has to stop Sheppard from shooting McKay.) Thank you.

Chapter 8: Contradictions

_"Colonel Sheppard, please report to Dr. Weir's office. Colonel Sheppard to Dr. Weir's office."_

Sheppard groaned and got out of bed, glancing at his watch. Seven in the morning. He swore and bolted out of bed, grabbing a uniform and his radio on his way to the bathroom. He shaved and dressed, then ran full-tilt to the control room, all the way keeping up a steady stream of curses that General O'Neill would be proud of. He took the stairs in the control room two at a time and threw himself at the chair in Elizabeth's office.

He would have congratulated himself on his speed and performance, except for the fact that he missed the chair.

Almost hitting his face on the desk, he yelped and grabbed the edge, sloppily pulling himself up. "I'm good," he grunted, sitting down heavily in the chair, panting heavily, his hair in what Rodney called the 'Defies Gravity' category. "So, what'd I miss?" he asked, acting like nothing had happened. He glanced around at the faces in the office--Elizabeth, Carson, McKay, Ronon, and Teyla--their expressions ranging from shock to amusement to exasperation.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows for a moment, then said, "Well, we've been talking about this Wraith problem, and we have decided that--"

"It's a stupid idea, so you can forget about it." Rodney finished.

Sheppard narrowed his eyes. "They could have some intel we could use. What about that doohickey Rodney came up with to get him and Ronon off the Hive during the, uh, oh-so-short alliance with the Wraith? I could use that, right?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "You mean besides the fact that you'll have to actually be in range of the Daedalus for it to work."

"And it didn't work," added Ronon, which earned him a glare from McKay.

"Yes, Ronon, _thank _you so much for pointing that out."

"No, no, no," said Sheppard, surprised at his own insistence. "What if they're telling the truth? I'll have practically unlimited access to Wraith tech, and you guys are just saying 'no?' This could be huge!"

"And it's risk we're not quite willing to take," interrupted Elizabeth. "John, this is the _Wraith _we're talking about."

"I _know _that, I'm just saying--"

"The answer is no, John." John stared hard at Elizabeth. She stared right back. He narrowed his eyes; she reciprocated.

"Yes, yes, are we done here?" asked an agitated McKay. "Because I have some _very _important work to do, and I don't have time to watch you two having a staring contest."

"We're done." Confirmed Weir. Her eyes still locked on Sheppard's. As everyone filed out of the room, John stood up, still not breaking eye contact.

"Dr. Weir," he said, turning around to leave the room. _We're done... _Sheppard heard again the flat finality in that statement.

_Like hell we are._

* * *

John walked brusquely to his room after doing a quick hall check, hours after the meeting with Weir. _Just the night guards. Good. _He palmed the door open and locked it behind him with a single thought, then moved to his guitar and reached behind it, grabbing the duffel bag he had stashed earlier. Slinging it over his shoulder and taking an LSD in hand, he jogged silently down the corridor to the armory, grabbing an extra thigh holster, 9mm, two extra rounds of ammunition, and a Wraith stunner, stuffing them all into the duffel bag. Then he set off for the jumper bay, sneaking past the guard inside. He dashed over to Jumper One, ducking inside and stashing his duffel bag in the storage compartments above. This being the Jumper they were taking on their next mission, he would simply duck inside, grab the back, dial the 'gate and presto.

He paused in his action, Elizabeth's voice filling his mind. _"John, this is the _Wraith _we're talking about..." _This _was _the Wraith they were dealing with. Why was he so anxious to walk right into enemy territory? _Ah, screw it. I hate this stupid galaxy._

* * *

"...telling you Ronon, you really need to stop beating up so many marines. We could hardly get any to come with us this time around." John smiled thinly and shook his head. He still felt a little guilty about leaving. Come to think of it, he was still kind of fuzzy as to why he was leaving in the first place. _Another one of those stupid, overrated gut feelings that I hate oh-so-much._

Sheppard sighed and rubbed his forehead, attempting to dissipate his growing headache. Straightening his tac vest, he stepped out into the desert sun of the sandy planet they had landed on. His eyes grazed over his team, which was scattered around the area surrounding the jumper. McKay was walking around with his LSD, probably on some wild goose chase for non-existent energy readings. _Nothing unusual there._

Ronon was doing a little light sparring with Teyla off to the side, the extra team of marines taking care of border patrol and guard duty. The marines in question were looking a little out of place, and Sheppard had to grin. Looked like desert wasn't really something they were used to, if the copius sweating and swearing was any indication.

Sheppard walked over to McKay, peering at the LSD over his shoulder.

McKay suddenly stopped and sighed dramatically. "Yes? Is there something you need that couldn't possibly wait _five minutes, _Colonel?" Sheppard smirked at him.

"With you, it'd probably take five hours, and then you'd be griping all week about not finding anything. And then I'd have to take my precious time saying 'I told you so' and gloating in general." He glanced back at the life-signs detector. "So, anything interesting?"

"No, not really," responded McKay. "I'm just getting a bunch of gibberish; as usual."

John raised his eyebrows and resisted the urge to let loose a scathing snark. It was well-known throughout Atlantis that Sheppard was one of the blessed few who could banter with Rodney McKay and have a chance at success. Again, the colonel felt a small pang.

"Aha!" exclaimed McKay, causing everyone to jump. He pointed triumphantly north. "Found it." HE started walking, not bothering to check if anyone was following him. John turned to Ronon and Teyla, his eyebrows raised, hands resting on his P90. He turned back to Rodney just as the scientist stopped. He turned around and blinked in confusion. "Hello? Anyone coming?"

"Sure thing, _Dr. Jackson,_" snarked John under his breath.

"What?" asked McKay nastily.

"Nothing," assured Sheppard innocently. "Just the whole 'walking away without saying anything and expecting everyone to follow you' thing, that's all."

McKay rolled his eyes. "Oh, _very _mature, Kirk. Now, are you all coming, or do I have to give you a specific invitation?" with that, he turned around and walked away under the direction of the LSD.

"I'm gonna stay with the Jumper; I needed to inventory, anyway. Might as well get it over with." his team looked surprised.

"Really?" asked McKay. "You always come with us. Are you feeling okay?"

"McKay," said Sheppard, acting annoyed. "Didn't I just say I needed to take care of the inventorying? Was I really that quiet, or are you just that thick-skulled?" McKay rolled his eyes and walked away, Teyla following and--after casting a suspicious glace in Sheppard's direction--Ronon. John waited until they were out of sight and then walked back inside the Jumper, taking inventory for a few minutes. He glanced out the windshield to see the marines circling the perimeter.

John grabbed the duffel back and dashed outside, throwing it behind the DHD when the marines weren't looking. He walked over to the nearest soldier and asked the time.

"1300 hours, Sir." replied the marine casually.

John nodded. "Guess it's time to update Elizabeth. Thanks." the marine nodded and Sheppard moved away, breathing nervously at the thought of what he was about to do. He walked over to the DHD and dialed--but not the Atlantis address. But the marines wouldn't know that. As soon as the wormhole opened up, Sheppard grabbed the duffel bag and dived headfirst into the event horizon as he heard shouts of alarm behind him.

* * *

Authors Note: Well, looks like our favorite Lt. Colonel has gotten himself into trouble. Again. What else is new? Reviews would be lovely, by the way.


	9. Bad Day

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I REALLY don't own Stargate, okay? What is this, a police interrogation? HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY IT?! Jeez, it's like watching bad reruns of Dragnet... _'That's right chief, he was high on sugar cubes...yes sir, that's about the size of it.'_

WARNING: Like I ALSO had to mention a gazillion times before, this thing is REALLY stupid, okay? I mean, I'M writing it, not Robert C. Cooper or Brad Wright; it's going to be stupid! Got it? Fab. Wonderful. Huzzah. Hallelujah. _Oh joy._ Can we get _on with it now_? Thank you, love you all!

A/N: A BIG BIG thank you to everyone you read and reviewed!! I LOVE reading your reviews, they make me very happy--Especially since my cat ate my hamster the other day :( KEEP REVIEWING! YOU'RE AWESOME!! Sorry for the VERY long delay. Ack! I need a betareader! (any volunteers?)

...Is it just me, or am I starting to sound like McKay? Scary thought...

Chapter 9: Bad Day

Of all the things Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard hated most about Stargate travel, landing flat on your face straight out of a wormhole had to be one of them. Groaning, he stood up and brushed himself up, wincing as he brushed the dirt off his right shoulder. "Pulled the dang thing _again,_" he muttered crossly. "Beckett's gonna be pissed..." _Oh. Right. I'm going solo on this one. Well _crap.

Hauling up his pack and P90, John started the short hike to the area where he last heard from Moe.

_Why am I doing this anyway?_

Because you're an idiot.

_No, tell me something I don't know._

Because you trust the Wraith more than your own team.

_Watch it! This is...an exception._

Yeah? Why are these Wraith any different?

_I dunno, they just are..._

...it was a poor argument even to John's ears.

It didn't take long for John to reach the point where he'd last spoken to Moe. _Hope this works. Okay...Moe? You there? It's uh...Shemp._

He paused, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. _Hel-lo?_

_"Shemp?"_

John jumped and glanced around, then remembered the telepathic link.

_Moe? That you?_

_No, it's the queen. 'Course it's me you moron._

Once again, John was reminded of a Wraith version of Rodney McKay.

_Well, I'm here. Still need my help?_

_"Well, I don't _need _your help, but it'd be nice. Maybe."_

_Yeah, suuure. You just keep telling yourself that._

_"Oh shut up. I'm sending a dart to pick you up, should be there shortly. Got it?"_

Sheppard agreed, but still felt uneasy about the whole thing, and couldn't shake an overall feeling of guilt for leaving the expedition. _I'll come back soon..._

* * *

_"You're out of your mind, you know that?" John turned around to look at the man lying in the sand, partially shaded by a rusted chopper. Sheppard walked over to the man, bending down. _

_"Holland?" he asked, incredulous. "What the hell are you doing here?"_

_"Dying; you?"_

_"You tell me, you seem to know what's going on more than I do."_

_"You're leaving them behind, you know. Just like they left _me _behind. They need you, and you're leaving 'em in the dust. What ever happened to 'leave no man behind', huh Sheppard?"_

John jolted awake at the sound of a wormhole activating. Rubbing his face quickly, he grabbed his duffel bag and dashed for cover in the nearest clump of bushes. He'd moved t station himself closer to the gate, an easier walk for when the dart came. He shuddered reflexively and wondered again why he was doing this.

He turned his attention back to the wormhole just in time to see his team walking through, followed by Lorne and some of the marine's from earlier. John cursed silently and hunched down further in the bushes, glad for the cover of darkness; it would be harder for Ronon to track him in the dark, especially with the dense foliage.

But that's exactly what he was doing, and John could see that it was taking him right where he'd been before, where he'd contacted Moe. He could see Rodney and Teyla glancing around, following quietly behind Ronon. _Come on Moe, where's that dart?_

_Shemp? You good?_

John jumped, still not used to the telepathic connection. _No! I'm not good! My team is in here looking for me and I need out. Where's that dart you promised._

_Oh...right, the dart. _Moe sounded sheepish. _See, we had a few technical difficulties and it uh, sort of...exploded in the bay._

_...What?_

_Forgot to follow your instructions, sorry Shemp._

_What instructions? _John asked cautiously.

_The uh, 'never trust the shiny red button' part. _He coughed in embarrassment.

John rolled his eyes. _You can read, can't you?! It SAID 'self-destruct, DO NOT TOUCH!' What part of DO NOT TOUCH is confusing?!_

_Look, do want help or not?_

_YES! NOW!_

_Alright then. Look, we just sent another dart out of the bay, it'll be your way in five, got it?_

_Yeah, and hurry it up, you moron._

"...went this way." John turned at the sound of Ronon's voice, coming from behind him.

John resisted the urge to groan. "This is _not _my day," he muttered.

Slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder again, he jumped up and, as silently as possible, ran around the 'gate perimeter, trying to buy some time...until he heard a shout from behind him.

"There!" Ducking to avoid a stunner blast from Ronon, John leaped over roots and fallen branches, giving silent thanks for the high school track team's hurdle practice. Running deeper into the forest, John headed for the clearing he had stayed in earlier; Moe would be able to find him there. John was swearing profusely under his breath as he ran, trying to stay one step ahead; but Ronon wasn't an ex-runner for nothing.

John heard a blast from Ronon's gun, felt a sharp pain in his left arm, and was sent spinning to the ground. John grit his teeth and rolled over onto his back, trying to get up.

"Sheppard!" John glanced up to see his team rushing towards him. Teyla got to him first, helping him sit up, then turning to glare at Ronon, who was looking a little sheepish.

"What was that for?!" sputtered Rodney.

"Wasn't sure if it was him," Ronon explained, shrugging.

"Well, you didn't have to shoot him!" Rodney griped. "Couldn't you have just asked?"

Ronon rolled his eyes and reached a hand down to Sheppard. Sheppard swallowed hard and reached up, accepting the hand hesitantly. _You can turn back now, just go with them back through the 'gate...you don't need to go with the Wraith...just turn back now...listen to Holland._

"So," asked Rodney, turning to Sheppard with a heavy-lidded expression. "What brings you out here, huh Sheppard? We were on the planet, I was scanning, and then we get a call from one frantic marine saying that his CO went Kamikaze and jumped through the 'gate to God knows where."

Sheppard rolled his eyes, trying to buy some time. "Whatever, McKay. So, how long was I gone?"

McKay's eyes widened. "Oh great, he's delusional! Next thing you know, he's going to be calling Teyla Holland again!"

"Relax, McKay," griped John. "I took a nap, that's all."

McKay deflated. "Oh, right. Well, you've been 'gone' for about three hours. It took a while to get the right address, and then Conon here took his time trying to play Sherlock. Now, what happened?"

"Well..." John started. He strained his ears and heard the 'gate activating in the distance. He fiddled with his radio, discreetly turning it off; he could see that the others didn't have theirs. "That's a funny story," he said slowly. He shifted nervously from foot to foot. "You know when I got snagged by the Wraith last week?" they nodded.

"Well, see, after the whole fiasco with the Hive, and the dart, and all that, we stopped at this desert planet, and I was saying to Moe--and this was just a spur of the moment thing--that if he ever needed a favor, then, you know..." he was steadily talking louder, trying to cover up the sound of an approaching dart. "To just give me a call!" he was shouting by the end. He shook his head apologetically. "Sorry, my hearing is a little off right now, guys, I might be a bit loud."

Ronon straightened. "Dart." he spat, drawing his gun.

"WAIT!" yelled Sheppard, and they turned to look at him, shocked. "Oh crap," said Sheppard, seeing the dart getting closer, and his team looking to him. "This is _really _not my day," he griped.

Then he saw a bright light and a high-pitched whine before he was sucked up in the culling beam...

* * *

Authors Note: Poor Sheppard. Brings us back to that wonderful line from 38 Minutes: "You mean my day just got worse?" Review, please! I want to know what you think!


	10. Preliminary

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: They're not mine, I don't own 'em. Well, except for Larry, Curly, Moe, and any other ridiculously ridiculous Wraith that MGM hasn't snagged. But other than that, they're not mine..._some day..._

WARNING: Extreme stupidity and silliness herein may be hazardous to your health. Please have a disgruntled-yet-brilliant Canadian scientist on standby to bore you into calm. And a lemon to deactivate him. On that note...

Chapter 10: Preliminary

John came to in yet another Hive ship cell, his first coherent thought being, _I REALLY have to stop making a habit of this. _Groaning quietly, he sat up, rubbing a sore, stiff spot on his head. Stumbling to his feet, he walked over to the entrance to the cell, eying it for weakness out of habit, knowing full well he wouldn't find anything.

"I'm a dead man," he muttered, nodding. _And I'm starting to sound like McKay. Well this is just GREAT._

Sitting back down on the floor, he slouched down, sulking. He decided to wait it out...still waiting...

* * *

"Shemp."

John scowled, turning away from the voice. He was tired, he just wanted to sleep.

"Hey, Shemp."

"G'way, s'l'pin," he mumbled unintelligibly.

"Hey, Shemp, you need to get up."

"Shu' up," he growled, batting away a clammy hand.

He heard an impatient sigh. Then a familiar husky, sarcastic voice, "Do you intend to sleep for the next half century, John Sheppard? Or shall I use more alarming methods?"

_I know that voice. _John gave a heart-felt groan. "Not you too!" It was bad enough having no one to talk to but him in Kolya's prison, and now he had to be stuck on a Hive with him?

"Who did you expect?" came the amused reply.

John grumbled and sat up, rubbing his forehead. Using the wall to support himself, he stood up, blinking back dizziness. "Whoa," he mumbled. "Head rush." He glared half-heartedly at his visitors; Moe, Kolya's Wraith--he'd need a name--and one of the guards. "Nice to see the welcoming committee is sparing no expense," he grumbled, still in a bad mood.

Moe sniggered, and was promptly smacked upside the head by--John decided to go with 'Todd'--who wore a long-suffering look. "You know, I said, not even attempting to hide my annoyance, "I appreciate the whole 'Wraith Humor' thing as much as the next measly human, but I'd kind of like to know what's going on. You know, just the unimportant little issue of me being locked in a Wraith cell, probably by Dracula's Stooges--and what's with that anyway?" I sneered, staring at the opposite wall with a Cadman-like attitude. "I thought Wraith were supposed to be all big and scary an' all that? Of course, that could just be my silly _human _opinion, so if it's a stupid question, please forgive me, oh Goth-like cavemen." I paused. "Sorry, did I say that out loud?" _Great, now I'm General O'Neill._

Todd rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. "If you are going to help, then help. Otherwise..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get the point," Sheppard snapped back. "Where's the stupid dart bay?"

Moe gave a short laugh and nudged Larry. "See? Told'ya he'd help."

Todd gave that martyred look again and heaved a growling sigh; Moe and his buddies shut up fast. Turning back to Sheppard, the elder Wraith--not to mention the more mature of the group--ground out, "You will be assigned quarters in the living area if the queen approves of your expertise," he somehow managed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice...well, most of it anyway.

Sheppard shrugged indifferently, suppressing a slight involuntary shudder at the 'if' in the phrase. "Lead the way," he gestured perkily at the corridor in front of the him. "Anyway," he added in a sullen voice, "I don't I'm going to get _any more sleep_," he sent a pointed look at Moe, who glanced around 'innocently'.

* * *

Sheppard's step picked up when they were approaching the dart bay; he had a bit of an 'internal compass' when it came to stuff that went high and fast, and that parents never even dreamed of approving. By the time they brought over the ladder for him to climb into the nearest dart to inspect it, he was nearly skipping, desperately trying to keep the excitement off of his face--to no avail. He was like a kid in the Christmas presents.

After a short preliminary exam of the craft, he leaned over the side to address the awaiting Wraith--Moe, Larry, Curly, Todd, and the drone who brought the ladder over. "Well, from what I can tell, it's in good shape. I mean, the navigational systems could use a tune-up, and it wouldn't hurt to work on the engine, but it'll fly fine."

Todd nodded. The Stooges gave him blank glances. The drone didn't do anything. "Will you require assistance with the repairs?" asked Todd bluntly, yet still somehow polite.

_Well, since McKay isn't here..._ "Yeah," he said, "help'd be good." He was about to duck back down to the cockpit, but sat up again as a new thought occurred to him. "Hey, shouldn't I have seen the queen by now? I mean, she'll probably want to try and suck me dry, or commence in a battle of wits, or whatever; right?"

Todd obtained that all-too-innocent 'wasn't me' expression that Sheppard had seen on the other three before. "She is currently in a delegation on an allied Hive. What she does not know, will not harm her."

Sheppard hesitated slightly before nodding. He took a deep breath; "I'm goin' in," he muttered before diving into the slightly slimy innards of the navigations.

* * *

Sheppard collapsed into bed, not caring what it was made of; he'd rather not know, anyways.

Sheppard undid his boots and threw them across the room to put away later; or, most likely, never. He climbed into bed and stared up at the dark ceiling, his body aching all over. Sitting for seven hours in the cockpit of a dart, bending over, was not a comfortable position. _At all._

Who knew Wraith repairs could be so draining? He had a new-found almost-respect for McKay now.

Thinking of Atlantis' resident hypochondriac, John felt a sudden pang of nostalgia. He had practically abandoned them to help a bunch of Dracula wanna-be's, without a word of explanation. If or when he made it back, Ronon was going to be furious with him; and here he'd been, thinking he'd gotten out of that fight to the death he'd promised the caveman.

Teyla would be kinder about it, but she hated the Wraith almost as much as Ronon. She probably hated his guts right now, but was keeping it in for the moment. On the not-so-bright side, he'd have getting his sorry butt kicked from Atlantis to Athos in the gym as payback. Every day, for weeks. Knowing Teyla, she'd probably let Ronon in on it; they'd gang up on him and rotate torture sessions. _Would you rather...fight to the death his wooden sticks, or get run to death by the Pegasus Caveman? Oh, choices, choices..._

* * *

Authors Note: REALLY sorry I haven't updated in FOREVER. No excuse, I know. Hope you guys liked it anyway; I typed through a broken/sprained/something wrist for you guys (I tune out when doctor's go into medi-babble mode.)

By the way: if anyone is nice enough, I need a Beta. _Please?!_ I have toast! And cookies!!


	11. Audience With the Queen

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I REALLY don't own 'em. If you don't believe me by now, I'll sic Ronon on you. Here Ronon, here boy, here...oh crap. Down boy!

WARNING: Extreme silliness and stupidity. May be hazardous to your health (I wouldn't know first-hand; fanfic has already rotted what little common sense I had to begin with. Just the way I like it!)

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Oh, and for those very, very nice people who reviewed:

**Haruka83: **I'm glad you liked it! It was fun to come up with fitting punishments from Ronon and Teyla ;)

**Demon Lady 500: **I know, I was happy to finally have an excuse to get Todd in there! Best. Wraith. EVER.

Happy reading! PLEASE review! I can't make it better if you don't tell me what you think.

_Oh! One more thing: If any of you are interested in beta-reading, please let me know, okay?_

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Chapter 11: Audience With the Queen (or--as I like to call it: God Save the Queen...or Not)

Repairs.

I hate them.

I spent the next day repairing a totaled dart, and I mean the _whole day. _I was in and under that thing from sun-up to sundown...well, what I _assumed _was sun-up and sundown. Kind of hard to tell from _space_.

I _really _hate repairs.

Oh, and I was also hungry. I brought some MRI's (thoughtful li'l ol' me), and it was a good thing I did; Wraith delicacy isn't very palatable, if you catch my drift.

Well, no spare moments to watch DVDs for me. I was so tired by the end of the 'day' that I just collapsed on my 'bed' (organic; blech) and fell asleep. honestly, I didn't have time to even think about getting home, or even when the queen came back.

On a plus note, Todd let me have a few breaks every once in a while, and I'd catch a bit of lunch, and he'd start teaching me a bit of the Wraith language. Last year, Elizabeth started to teach me Ancient, and it really _was _similar to Wraith. Of course, I didn't have to _tell _them that I had a head start; better to just impress them with my ultimate abilities (had I had any other than repair work, as it'were).

Well, I was working on the HUD in one of the darts when Curly comes scrambling through the entrance to the dart bay; I say scrambled, because he is no track star. He flails around a lot when he turns corners, and he slips a lot, sometimes tripping over his own feet. So, he comes slipping and sliding all the way over to the dart to the ladder I was repairing. He reached the top of the ladder after much 'huffing and puffing', as the idiom goes.

"Hey," gasp, "Shemp," gasp. I keep working. This is a usual occurrence for Curly. He comes to me several times a day to tell me something.

"Yeah?" It sounded more of a statement than a question.

"Big...news." I raised an eyebrow, eyes still on the circuitry of one of the vertical panels under the dashboard. Yesterday, Curly's 'big news' was that one of the Wraith had a temper tantrum in his quarters and blasted the wall with his stunner. Unfortunately, that stunner blast hit the door controls, which were very effectively fried. Todd and another Wraith (whom I'd decided to call MacWraither, after MacGyver, on account of him being able to make or fix anything with very few tools) had to go and override the controls from the primary systems in the control room. See, McKay? I can spout techno-babble just as well as you can...I just need a few more rehearsals, is all.

"What 'news'?" I asked, not really caring. I gingerly maneuvered my screwdriver in one of the dashboard consoles.

"Queen...s'back," he gasped, shaking his head in a vain effort to do...something; I wasn't paying attention at that point. My screwdriver stopped.

"The queen's back?" I asked, just to clarify.

"Tha's what...I said," he confirmed, nodding slowly, still trying to catch his breath.

"..._and?!_" I gestured impatiently with my arms, my screwdriver flying across the bay. I stared after it as it clocked one of the Wraith drones in the head; he went down hard. "Oops," I muttered, turning discreetly away. Then I turned quickly back to Curly. "So? Does she want to see me? Does she want to talk to me? Does she want to--I don't know--_eat me?!_"

"Um...'Todd' says that you should come to the audience chamber and wait for him right outside. I think he said that he wanted the two of you to talk, and he'll try to persuade her to keep you aboard and not, um, well--"

"'Eat you,' as you so floridly put it." We turned to the entrance of the dart bay, where Moe was jogging fluidly up to us. What can I say? Moe has a thing for fancy words. "Hey, Shemp, move it. The boss is waiting for you by the audience chamber." He jerked a thumb towards the door where he came.

"This is _soo _not my week," I growled. I rolled my eyes one last time and hopped out of the dart and clambered down the ladder. I ran a hand nervously through my hair as we jogged through the halls; Moe reached over to try and help, but I swatted his hand away. I still wasn't very comfortable with the whole touchy-feely thing; especially when people/aliens get all 'touchy-feely' with feeding hands.

By the time we got to the audience chamber, Todd was waiting--rather peeved--for us, right outside the door. "There you are," he growled, grabbing me by the elbow (with his non-feeding hand, thank you) and dragging me into the chamber.

* * *

"This is him?"

I swear, that stupid tyrant was sneering. Of course, Wraith _always _look like they're sneering, so this is hard to tell. It's more a matter of how pronounced the sneer is.

"This is him," confirmed Todd, standing ramrod straight, yet still looking imposing and in control. I'd seen some of the second-in-commands in Afghanistan look the exact same way before our commanding officer. Even in the freaking Pegasus Galaxy you can't escape the chain of command.

"He doesn't look like much," she remarked, a hint of a challenge bordering her observation. I raised an eyebrow; was she, Wraith Queen, challenging I, Colonel Kirk? Time to pile on the charm...

"_He _appreciates the sentiment," ..._right _after a brief snarking. What? I was just 'testing' her.

She hissed at me; I think. Again, it's hard to read emotions on alien Dracula-wannabes. I swear Todd growled at me; one of his patented 'shut up' growls, too.

"What is your name, human?" she snarled at me. "Speak!"

"Okay, okay," I huffed. "No need to get all...Wraithy on me." I could practically hear Rodney's reply to that. _'Wraithy'? Is that even a word?!_

She narrowed her eyes dangerously.

I sighed dramatically. "I'm never gonna get paid," I mumbled, pulling a Jackson. "Hi," I extended my hand; left one, not taking any chances. "Sheppard, _John _Sheppard. _Colonel _John Sheppard..._Lieutenant _Colonel John Sheppard." So much for impressive.

She did not extend her hand, so I retracted mine with a nonchalant shrug. _Whatever._ "I am the queen of this Hive, human."

"Colonel," I corrected somewhat sharply. If I was going to be staying here for a while, I was going to get a little respect. The last thing I would let happen is me getting dissed on a daily basis by a bunch of sullen, rock-star, Goth, Dracula-wannabes. I decided to go for the friendly approach. "You got a name?" Blank stare. "You know; what do people...Wraith...call you? I mean, if you're with a bunch of other queen's, I kind of doubt you can just say, 'hey you' or something..." Blank stare, this time tinted with...amusement? Again, emotions.

I thought for a moment. "Let's go with Julie." I decided, nodding confidently. "Well, Julie, Your Highness, it's been a pleasure," I poured on all of my Kirk charm. "With your permission, I should really get back to repairing your crappy--I mean, _sophisticated, _fleet of darts." I waited a moment, rolling my tongue around in my mouth, for her answer. She rolled her eyes--I kid you not--and nodded, waving a hand at Todd in a 'get him out of here' gesture. I wiggled my eyebrows once or twice. _Mission accomplished. Queen has been charmed; or at least she hasn't eaten me yet._

Me: 1. Beasties: 0.

Oh yeah. I rock.


	12. Trajectories

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate. That title belongs to Rob Cooper and Brad Write (the Traitor). I'm pessimistic today, so if anyone says that I DO own it, I will, first, be very happy, then second, I'll...have MacWraiter and Todd lock you in a dart and send you over Ronon, never to be seen again. Okay, so maybe I won't (since I love you all very much) but the offer still stands. Does anyone have siblings, perhaps?

WARNING: _extreme _stupidity enclosed. Read at your own risk. You may want to have Carson standing by, just in case. I've been told that people die laughing at my stupidity. Or ranting, it depends.

* * *

Many, many thanks to all those who reviewed!

**Bokormen:** So glad you liked it! Hopefully it'll be just as funny here...well, maybe not, since I'm actually AWAKE right now.

**ObsessedSGAgirl: **I love writing for the Wraith; I think he sounds like Rodney too. Distant cousin, perhaps?

**masterling: **Thank you SO much for mentioning the perspective thing! It's been a while since I've updated, so I've forgotten some of the 'finer details' (such as who's writing the freaking story!) So thanks; I never would have remembered! Glad you like the story!!

* * *

Chapter 12: Trajectories

"You want me to what?" John was pretty mad. How dare they heap all these jobs on him! The least they could do was get him popcorn, but _nooo, _they just HAD to make him the new flight instructor.

Todd gave his patented martyr sigh and rolled his eyes. "You heard me, Sheppard. You are doing the repairs on the ships, and you spend every waking moment in the cockpit as it is." Sheppard averted his eyes innocently. He _had _been spending a lot of time flying the darts. It was his pilot side; he couldn't resist it.

"Yeah, well, you're the expert on the darts here," Sheppard snapped. It was true; something he'd never admit to normally, but, as Elizabeth would say, 'anything to get away from paperwork.' Metaphorically speaking, of course. Some of these Wraith were disaster movies waiting to happen.

"While that is true," admitted Todd with Rodney-like modesty (that is to say, none), "I don't have time to teach crash courses to amateurs. You on the other hand..."

John clenched his teeth. _Come on, how bad could it be? _he tried to reason with himself. _Besides, Wraith don't even need you to repeat instructions...excluding most of the ones on this Hive...especially the Stooges..._

"As it is," Todd continued in a gravelly tone, "another Hive is becoming rather unfriendly. We need to be prepared..."

_We?_

"All right," he gave in, gesturing helplessly with his arms. "How bad can it be?"

* * *

"_How bad can it be_?" Sheppard mimicked shrilly, standing bitterly with his arms crossed in the dart bay as new pilots whizzed darts around the spacious hanger. "I'll _tell _you how bad it can be, you stupid--" he cut off as he had to duck, a corkscrewing dart hurtling past his head and clipping the wall as it pulled up.

"WATCH IT!" the colonel shouted. _I will never doubt Murphy's Law so long as I shall live..._

Another dart flew past, scraping painfully on the floor, struggling to get back in the air.

_...which shouldn't be long._

John winced just thinking about the repairs he'd have to do. "Why me?" he whimpered. He had endured capture and torture at the hands of Taliban, Genii, Wraith--but nothing was worse than being an instructor. It took all of his self-discipline not to curl up and sob. _All the repairs...and I just fixed them!_

Just as they were starting to get the hang of it, one of the Wraith--a younger, headstrong one, very much like John--swooped down into one of the pits, pulling up in a dive.

"MAVERICK!" yelled Sheppard, pretending to be outraged. He was surprised; that had been his own nickname back in basic. "Stupid life-sucking, goth, griping, aliens..." he muttered stomping over to where the recently-christened Maverick was landing. Said Wraith hopped out of the cockpit, grinning impishly as his friends congratulated him on his dive. "OI!" yelled Sheppard, stomping up to the cocky alien. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" _Oh great, I'm going Beckett on him._

Maverick smirked. "Admit it," he grinned, "you're impressed."

Sheppard folded his arms, narrowing his eyes dangerously, one eyebrow raised. He waited for it.

Sure enough, the cocky smirk slipped off like snow on a window. Maverick shifted uncomfortably. "I hope you're impressed, _sir,_" he muttered quietly, looking at his boots. Sheppard hid his amazement. He really _did _have a way with the Pegasus natives, enough so that he could shame a young Wraith in a matter of moments without saying a word. _Huh. This job has its perks._

He took pity on the boy and relaxed his pose, putting his hands on his hip. He had a notion. If this Wraith was so much like him...

"Can you tell me the estimated angle of the dive, recruit?"

The Wraith's eyes brightened. "Yes sir," he replied. "I estimate the dive at approximately seventy-one degrees." John waggled his eyebrows. _Well, well._

"Class dismissed," he said, showing a bit of mercy. The pilots-in-training sighed with relief and jogged out of the bay; Maverick stayed where he was, pinned by Sheppard's gaze. "Tell me," he said, warming up to the subject, "what do you know about Trajectory angles?"

The boy grinned.

When Todd walked in hours later, he found the Sheppard in the cockpit of a dart, with a young Wraith leaning over the side to peer in, both looking like kids at Christmas-time (a Sheppard metaphor, of course). He caught Sheppard muttering the phrase 'yVoy t-1/2g t squared for vertical trajectories...'

* * *

Authors Note: Well? Now we have a younger, Wraith John, AND we know that the Wraith ships aren't on friendly terms. Feedback, if you please.


	13. Cinema le Lifesuckers

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I don't own ANY of it. Well, okay, that's a lie. I own Julie, Moe, Larry, Curly, Moe, Maverick, and MacWraither (the Wraith version of Sgt. Siler, in case you didn't catch it in chapter...11?) So, I don't own any of the ORIGINAL stuff, but I own all of the stupid stuff. Well, that's what they (should) pay me the big bucks for.

WARNING: Contains extreme stupidity, proceed at your own discretion. (This being the point where I imagine RDA as O'Neill giving me a sidelong glance and saying, "ya _think_?"

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To all my lovely reviewers:  
**ErisRocks: **my original plan for Maverick was just some overzealous kid who keeps crashing every dart he comes in contact with, but I think I like the new Maverick better. Glad you like the story! It's nice to know my ramblings make sense.  
**cimmer: **Thanks! I'm pretty glad John isn't getting shot down too; we have to let Ronon have his fun, now don't we?  
**Haruka83: **it's definitely fun to have Shep be the flight instructor; now he knows what he put HIS teachers through...well, some.  
**AtlantisCat101: **again, thank you very much. I know I'm WAY off-base with the regular character of the Wraith, but it's pretty fun to write; someone had to do it.  
**night animal: **good question. Pretty much all of the Wraith on this hive are...let's go with misfits shall we? Well, they screw up a lot, so MacWraither is kept _very _busy. Imagine being the eldest of...I don't know, 200? At least he gets paid for it. Todd is also kept very busy, and so he spends his time keeping the politic in line. Well, that's his excuse, anyway ;)  
**THe KiKO peRsOn: **glad you like it! I'm surprised so many people read this, but I guess we'll all a bit crazy; it's a writer thing, I guess.

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Chapter 13: Cinema le Lifesuckers

Sheppard lay on his bed, staring contritely up at the ceiling. With nothing to do now, he had no choice but to think about his friends back in Atlantis. No doubt McKay was burying himself in his work, trying to find a scientific reason for John's sudden betrayal. Teyla would be meditating more often, trying to clear her mind for a while. Ronon would most likely be beating up dummies in the gym. Dummies most likely created in John own image.

He threw a rubber band ball at the ceiling, catching it as it propelled downwards.

Elizabeth would probably be trying to get everything up to speed, since John wasn't there to do any of the paperwork anymore. She'd be swamped.

Another toss of the rubber ball.

Lorne...Lorne would be taking over John's own duties by now. He was technically the temporary CO, until the SGC could replace him, or until John came back. Well, he was pulling for the first option; the IOA would jump at any chance to fire or write someone off. They'd be cackling with glee right about now, looking forward enthusiastically to the day when they'd get to rake him over the hottest coals known to existence.

"Then they'll string me up over them and take a coffee break," he muttered darkly, bouncing the ball again.

_You know what I need? _He thought, depressed. _I need a movie._

* * *

John threw a brief sideways glance at the door to his quarters as the squelching excuse for a door chime activated, indicating visitors. "Come in," he yelled, turning his eyes back to the projector screen he'd set up, consisting of a sheet and a small ancient device McKay had found months earlier, a small projector that McKay and Weir thought were used for conferences. John preferred entertainment.

Moe, Curly, and Larry walked in, arguing amongst themselves. They stopped short when they saw the screen, their mouths dropping.

"What in Hive is _that_?" asked Larry in awe, staring slack-jawed at the color sequence.

"That, my friend_, _is the Matrix," answered John reverently.

Moe blinked, reveling in the slow-motion action sequence near the end of the movie. "How does he do that?" he asked, awed.

"He doesn't," said Sheppard. "Well, he _does, _but it's all with wires and special effects."

An idea struck him. He sat up and hit the pause button, putting the 'slow' in slow motion action sequence. He looked mischievously over at the three Wraith.

"Hey, you guys ever heard of James Bond?"

* * *

Todd entered Sheppard's quarters with the intent of giving a message and getting back to work. He wasn't supposed to be going on errands like this, but the queen had asked him personally, so he didn't have much choice in the matter.

He entered to find the room in semi-darkness, the only light coming from a small machine projecting some sort of...electric shadows of some sort onto a white cloth sheet. Sheppard was reclining against the back of the bed, arms behind his head, staring intenting at the picture on the sheet. Spread out on the floor and various pieces of furniture were Moe, Larry, Curly, Maverick, and MacWraither (as Sheppard had dubbed them.) They were all watching the sheet in fascinated rapture. There was loud noise coming from somewhere, accompanying the projection.

Todd rolled his eyes, sighed, and cleared his throat. Sheppard looked towards the doorway, and, seeing who it was, made an 'oh, crap' face (as he called it) and used some sort of control device to freeze the picture on the sheet, the image portraying a somewhat short human sliding on his side across a glass-strewn floor, shooting two guns simultaneously towards the direction of the audience.

Said audience began to protest, but stopped when they realized who had come in. "Hey Todd," greeted Sheppard. "Come to watch the movie? We're just finishing up the first one, but I've got the whole trilogy," he added with a proud smirk, not unlilke that of someone who has been promoted to a high political position...but then again, it _was _Sheppard.

"As a matter of fact, yes," answered Todd in his gravelly voice. He paused for effect. "The queen wishes to see you. Immediately."

Making another 'oh, crap' face, Sheppard threw his legs over the side of the bed, picking his way to the door, ruffling his hair along the way.

"Can we keep watching, sir?" asked Maverick, his eyes glowing in awe and admiration.

Sheppard nodded. "I'm leaving Mac in charge," he said to the room at large. "When you're done with this one, if I'm not back than just...make do with the special features or something." Not particularly caring whether of not the Wraith understood the Earth term, he jogged out of the room, heading for the audience chamber.

Todd rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, keeping them there for a moment. Just as he turned to go, he heard the sound for the 'movie' come back on, and then heard one of his fellow Wraith--almost certainly Maverick--saying, "Mission: Impossible...think we can do a reenactment?"

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A/N: I know it's short, but I have the next one planned out. Really, I do! I'll update SOON this time. Review, if you are so inclined. (You are. Trust me, you're inclined).


	14. Misfits

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own SGA. But one day, mark my words... I'll bribe McKay to help me out; bribe with Power Bars, or blackmail with lemons. Either way, Stargate _will be mine! _Mwah ha ha!! McKay! Get your butt over here!

WARNING: There is an actual REASON this story was entered under 'humor'. This is a STUPID STORY, as I have said a dozen times already...give or take. So if you suffer brain damage from the stupidity (which I don't know is actually possible), I'd prefer if you DIDN'T due me. Feel free to sue my siblings, for causing ME brain damage, just don't sue me!

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_To my wonderful reviewers..._  
**Haruka83: **glad you enjoyed it! I definitely wondered how the Wraith would react to the Matrix, and it's always rewarding to show people just how nuts-o I am.  
**THe KiKO peRsON: **readers are always welcome ;) Glad you like it!  
**toomuchcaf: **ooh, there's an idea! Hm...mind if I borrow it for a later chapter?

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Chapter 14: Misfits

John entered the audience chamber at a skidding run, his shoes squealing in protest as he came to a halt, panting, before the queen.

Julie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her jaw clenched. John fiddled nervously with his expedition jacket, then stuffed his hands in his pockets. He cleared his throat.

"You rang?" he asked.

Julie rolled her eyes to he ceiling. "Yes, Sheppard, I rang," she said, a dead ringer for Rodney McKay. She suppressed another sigh--though not without difficulty--and spoke. "We just received word from an allied Hive; one of the enemy alliances is moving in, attempting to stop our culling and cull the planet themselves."

"And then blow you out of the water," stated Sheppard. He paused. "Well, space, technically. Out of the sky," he amended, nodding. It crossed his mind that if Wraith had eyebrows, the queen's would be up in the stratosphere by now. What could he say; it was a gift.

"Be that as it may," Julie continued, "a delegation from each allied Hive will be arriving in two days time, and a meeting of sorts will take place here. We will be discussing the best tactical decisions concerning this enemy alliance, as it is a threat to our own alliance." She paused, gazing sharply at Sheppard. "All of my senior staff will be there, as per our custom. Our flight commander was killed in the last great culling, which is a problem, since that title is included among senior staff." Julie gave him the Wraith version of the Weir Stare, and walked away.

Sheppard blinked, confused. "What's that got to do with--"

"I expect you in the audience chamber in the morning," she said, speaking over him. She stared pointedly at him for a moment. "..._Flight Commander _Shemp."

With that, she turned and left, leaving Lt. Colonel John Sheppard struck dumb and speechless in her wake.

"Ooh, crap," he said. Then, in a very McKay-like manner, added, with his eyes closed, "I'm a dead man."

* * *

"No, no, no," said Todd, circling swiftly to stand next to Sheppard, who was rolling his eyes in frustration. "Not like that. You must be bold, but not impudent; proud, but not arrogant. Again!" he yelled.

Sheppard let out a heartfelt groan. "Come on!" he protested. "How does it matter how I sit down at a freaking conference table! They're made to _sit at, _not to perform."

"Maybe on your world," corrected Todd, with just as much frustration. "But you are not a Wraith, and you were not raised as one, were you?"

"That's my point," said Sheppard, pointing a finger at the older alien. "I'm a human, a snack-pack, so why do I have to be a flight commander? I mean, do you really think they'll accept a human anyway? They'll probably try to _eat _me," he pointed out.

"Well then perhaps I should save them the trouble," growled Todd, flexing his feeding hand.

_Oh, snap. _John put up his hands in a 'whoa, Nelly' gesture, his eyes on the feeding hand. "Take it easy, no need to get aggressive. Or hungry, if you don't mind. If you wanted to take a snack break, why didn't you just say so?" _So long as I'm not the snack...again._

Growling again, Todd gave up; it wasn't worth it anyway. "The queen expects you to make an admirable impression, especially as you are not a Wraith. Just be thankful that the last flight commander was a failure, and that it will be easy to outdo him."

"Either that or they'll say I'm following in his footsteps," griped John, still watching Todd carefully. Just because he was living on a Hive ship for a while didn't mean that he completely trusted them. "By the way," he said, something popping into mind. "How come nobody on this Hive's tried to eat me yet? Actually, everyone on this boat is a little whacked, by the looks of it."

Todd sighed and said, "this crew of this Hive is made up entirely of...misfits, shall we say. This is where they send the Wraith that are an 'embarrassment' to the rest of our race. Of course, their definition of a failure is somewhat different than ours."

"Really?" John was intrigued now. "Well, what's their definition?" _Couldn't hurt to get some inside intel for Elizabeth and the team while I'm here_.

Todd paused for a moment, hesitant to give any weaknesses away. But then again, John was an ally...for the moment. "Some--many, in fact--are reluctant to take human life as freely as our brothers. They are somewhat...peaceful. Something that is appalling to others of our kind. Others still, such as your three friends, are considered easily distracted; their levity is considered a weakness. It is not Wraith-like, so to speak, to laugh and joke. Some, like young 'Maverick', as you call him, are considered to be a liability. His knowledge of mathematics is promising, but he has not the patience to be a scientist, and he is too free-spirited t be a soldier, in their opinion."

"And Julie?" asked Sheppard, already taken aback by the idea of a Misfit Island in the Pegasus. Todd looked confused at the name. "The queen," amended John.

"Ah, yes. She is considered to be too...diplomatic. She is too willing to negotiate, to work with others. Wraith Queen's are supposed to be bloodthirsty and battle-ready." With that, Todd turned away and walked across the room

"Again!" yelled Todd over his shoulder. John suppressed another groan. He paused for a moment, then began to walk towards the conference table that had been set up in the room. He was caught up in trying to keep his head up and glare, until he tripped over his own feet. "Again!" yelled Todd. John groaned, the sound repressed by the floor, which John was getting a face full of.

_Kill. Me. Now._

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A/N: Well, what do you think? Finally, I'm getting somewhere with this thing. Next chapter, we'll meet the Wraith delegation!


	15. Delegation, Shmelagation

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Stargate. No, that wonderful privilege resides with TPTB--the Powers That Be, otherwise known as Brad Wright, Robert C. Cooper & co.--who constantly abuse that privilege...like _CANCELING SGA_. _Bastards..._

WARNING: Again, I am not to be held responsible for any insanity or hysterical laughter this causes. Do not sue me, for both our sakes; me, because, uh, _hel_-lo_, _I'm a writer: no money; and you, because I'd give your lawyer a wall-banger of a headache and he'd probably charge you interest.

A/N: If you guys want to read a REALLY funny fic, check out _The Great Atlantis Food Fight _by SugarLoafBabeAndCatWink. I laughed myself silly over that one.

A/N2: I've told you guys how awesome you all are, right? Well, you guys are awesome. THANK YOU FOR THE WONDERFUL REVIEWS!! They make me very happy :)

Chapter 15: Delegation, Shmelagation

"Stop fidgeting," Todd muttered under his breath, not turning to look at Sheppard, who stood behind him, dressed uncomfortable in the Wraith flight commander uniform.

"It's not _my _fault these things itch," Sheppard shot back irritably. Todd resisted the urge to roll his eyes and waited for Sheppard to add something else; when he didn't, Todd commenced a silent rejoicing--John had been in a foul mood all day--that perhaps he would stay quiet.

No such luck.

"You know, couldn't you guys just say your flight commander's under the weather, and have me sit this one out? I mean, I really don't think they'd take well to a human flight commander."

Counting to the Wraith equivalent of ten, Todd answered, "We have already gone over this, Sheppard." Hearing the intake of breath that preceded John's next remark, Todd quickly added, "numerous times." He could see the approaching dart, so he stood at attention and left Sheppard to sulk.

Really, he couldn't blame the man; it was one thing, helping out Todd and his Hive--something John was reluctant to do in the first place--but then he was asked to be the flight instructor, and now the flight _commander; _not only that, but now he had to be presented in front of the alliance delegation. The man had a right to sulk.

The dart entered the bay and touched down slowly and skillfully.

* * *

Fidgeting one more time, Sheppard put on a straight face--competent, but not boasting; proud, but not arrogant; an air of leadership, but not of loftiness...or something like that.

This was more Elizabeth's area; she was the diplomat, he was just there for the run n' gun, shoot-to-kill stuff. Briefly, an old Firm song went through his head, 'Star Trekkin'' _we come in peace (shoot to kill, shoot to kill, shoot to kill) we come in peace (shoot to kill, shoot to kill men)._

Yup. That was his job.

The dart-ish (it was bigger) ship had a side compartment, which hissed open, a ramp descending. Sheppard suppressed a nervous gulp as the delegation walked out. Todd had told him how the council was made up; for each hive there was a queen, a second-in-command/adviser, flight commander, head scientist, head engineer, a researcher/historian, and top warrior--seven per hive.

His own delegation--when the heck had he started calling it that?!--consisted of Julie, Todd, himself, Moe, MacWraither, and some skull-faced drone whom he'd christened Doug. He seemed like a Doug. As well as a researcher, whom he named Darrell.

Coming off the ship now were what he estimated to be around three or four delegations; he was a little nervous to try ad count exact numbers--not to mention he was a little busy trying to maintain his commanderly-ish composure.

_Here it comes, _he thought, bracing himself for the death glares sure to come his way.

Sure enough, as soon as Julie's delegation presented itself, shocked glances and glares were sent his way. Resisting the urge to fidget again, Sheppard glared right back at 'em.

_Go on, I dare you..._

"Welcome to our hive," greeted Julie formally. Sheppard narrowed his eyes at one of the other flight commanders (judging by the uniform), who narrowed his eyes right back at him.

"Thank you," said another leader; the circle of leaderly pleasantries went around.

_Do you feel lucky Punk? Well? DO YA?!_

"As you are all aware, we have a...territorial problem, at the moment."

_This hive ain't big enough for the two of us..._

"I suggest we move into the audience chamber to discuss matters further."

The theme to _The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly _ran through Sheppard's head, and he dropped his commander-face for a Clint Eastwood impression.

As the leaders and 2IC's moved out first, John crossed his arms, glaring at the other commander. _Go ahead, make my day._

He registered Todd sighing--more like growling at this point--and grab the back of Sheppard's collar, forcing him to walk backwards for a few seconds.

_This isn't over._

Todd pulled harder, John's feet dragging behind him.

_I'll be back._

* * *

"Shall we begin?" asked Julie politely.

"Yes," said one of the other queens in a low voice.

But before she could say anymore, another queen, one with a shrill, whiny voice said, "why does a human wear the uniform of a flight commander?" she spat the word _human _like it was a dirty curse word. John silently said a few of his own dirty curse words.

"He is here," Julie said somewhat frostily, "because he has been appointed my flight commander. As you may know, our flight commander was killed in the last battle, and _Flight Commander Shemp _is the most qualified replacement." Another glare.

"You mean you allowed a human to fly one of our ships?" asked another queen disdainfully.

"He used it to escape from a hive of the enemy alliance," she replied, even colder. "While saving three of the Wraith on this hive." This earned a murmur of approval from some of the Wraith present.

"--along with destroying numerous enemy ships, I might add." And add she did.

This gained the approval of many more. John was shocked that they were being won over so easily.

"I must say, I'm not exactly surprised," said an amused, elderly adviser.

One of the queens, an old, weathered Wraith, burst out laughing. Much to Sheppard's surprise, the sound was pleasant, not at all terrifying or revolting. "Ah, come on," she said to Julie, still laughing. "We all know your ship is full of whack-jobs. Now you've got the complete collection, eh?" she cackled hysterically. Julie didn't look insulted; in fact, she looked pleased, as if her grandmother had complemented her.

"May we begin? As you are all well aware, our territory has been invaded by the opposing alliance, and shows no signs of relinquishing."

"We dispatched a cruiser to investigate," said the Wraith queen with the low voice--John decided to go with...Dominique. "They were fired upon and destroyed upon arrival, with no effort to communicate."

"They should be punished immediately," said the flight commander that John had been mocking earlier. "Severely." _Hm...let's go with...Caldwell. _John allowed himself a mental cackle, not trusting himself to say anything out loud.

"No," said the last queen, a more thoughtful one. She had a intelligent look to her, someone with an open mind. "We should try to contact them from a safe distance, and see their side of this. It may all just be a misunderstanding."

"I agree," said Julie, reminding John strongly of Elizabeth; she even had her arms up on the table in the same fashion. "We are few as it is, it won't do to go making more enemies than we already have."

"Even so," said Dominique. "I believe we should be prepared if the need for violence does arrive."

"I agree," added her flight commander in a wheezy voice. "I recommend having shield raised or on automatic standby; also having weapons on standby, and dart pilots ready to deport." Sheppard found himself nodding with the other commanders. This was a suggestion that he himself would make if this was a regular meeting back on Atlantis, having the Jumpers or the 302's on the ready--preferably with him as one of the pilots, of course.

"Who says we're going to negotiate in the first place?" asked the queen with the high, wheedly voice; she was obviously contemptuous about the whole proposition of dealing with those who had offended them.

Julie gave her the Weir stare, complete with the cocked head. Before she could reply though, Todd spoke up (John had forgotten he was even there). "As has already been mentioned," he inclined his head towards Julie, "we do not need more enemies than we already have."

The whiny queen (now named Tina) slouched back into her seat, pouting. Sheppard caught the young, intelligent queen--he decided to go with Cathy--smirked; she traced a 'one' and then a 'zero' in the air, keeping score. John choked down a laugh, hiding it with a cough; no one noticed him. Didn't seem that Tina was very popular.

"How many?" asked Sheppard suddenly, his military background checking in uninvited. He made a quick mental note to drop-kick his military background back to the SGC, where it could kiss his--

"How many what?" asked Cald--(snicker)--well insolently.

"How many of the enemy are there?" Sheppard clarified, his voice hard and experienced. "Is it just the one hive? Do we know how many Wraith are even _on _the hive?"

"I believe there is a hive and two cruisers," answered the gruff-sounding commander; he sounded somewhat open and even..._kind? _Well, kind enough for someone who'll just as soon suck the life out of you as shake your hand. Not a pretty way to go; Sheppard knew from experience. _When I get out of this, I'm gonna damn Kolya from wherever he is all the way to that hole on Dakara, where he really _will _rot._

"I suggest that we meet to discuss possible attack plans; divisions, attack points, and such. Just in case," he added.

"We'll need to brief the pilots anyways, so we might as well brief them all at once," agreed the 'kind' commander, now known as Walt.

"I agree," added Cathy's commander, nodding. Sheppard allowed himself a moment of Earthling humor and decided to call him Heathcliffe.

"Very well, it is decided," said Julie. "Flight Commanders, meet here in two cycle's time with your pilots. I call this session to a close." She stood up and bowed her head respectfully, her eyes focusing on each queen; they followed her movements. Everyone else stood after the queens; as soon as they left the room, they were followed by their advisers and then the flight commanders. The warriors, who had been standing outside the door, joined then as they left. On the way, they picked up the engineers and scientists, who had been off doing...sciency and engineerish...things.

Back in the dart bay, the members of the delegation were saying their respectful farewells, each within their respective groups.

"Until two cycles," said Caldwell, touching his left shoulder with his first two fingers of his right hand, bowing slightly and stiffly at the waist. _Is this their idea of a salute? _John mimicked as best he could as each other commander did the same.

Walt turned to John with an amused smile. "Well well, Commander Shemp; we all knew this hive was a strange one, but having a human as a commander? I don't know whether to be impressed or appalled. I suppose we'll see soon, won't we?" Sheppard nodded with a small smile. Walt's smile was warm and genuine as he 'saluted' to Sheppard, who returned the courtesy. "Until two cycles, my friend," he said, surprising Sheppard. "May you have luck with your pilots."

"And you yours," Sheppard returned, not needing Todd's lessons to return a common pilot courtesy.

As the delegation were climbing aboard the cruiser-like-thing, Caldwell turned to glare at Sheppard, who folded his arms and mouthed 'bring it' to him, folding his fingers inward in the universal 'bring it on' gesture. Caldwell pointed a finger sharply at Sheppard as if to say, _I'll be watching you._

As the ship departed, Todd clapped Sheppard on the shoulder (with his NON-lifesucking hand) and laughed. "Excellent work, John Sheppard. I must say, I'm impressed." Still laughing, he followed Julie, Moe, MacWraither, Doug and Darrell out of the bay.

Smiling serenely, Sheppard stared after the delegation, which had long since disappeared.

_Let the games begin._

* * *

A/N: So? What'd you think?! Personally, I thought this one was my best (and longest!) Please review! Oh, and check out a thing called NaNoWriMo (stupid won't let me include the URL). It's a nation-wide writing fest! _Love _it!


	16. Atlantis Reconnaissance 1

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: For the love, people! I do NOT own Stargate, and I honestly don't think I'm smart enough to come up with all the technobabble (that's why I fake it...doesn't work very well, but there you have it.)

WARNING: Extremely stupid content. Not advisable for anyone with a shred of sanity left in them.

Chapter 16: Atlantis Reconnaissance 1

Moving swiftly through the underbrush, Teyla silently kept an eye and an ear out for any signs of disturbance in the dense vegetation and humid atmosphere of MRX-894--yet another planet she and her team were searching for any signs of Colonel Sheppard.

"...Don't see why we should even bother; we did a preliminary life-signs check in the 'jumper before, so I highly doubt he's here. If there was any sort of shielding in the area, I would have detected it. _We are wasting valuable time_." Teyla sighed, wishing for once that Rodney would just _shut up. _Normally she was a patient person, but Rodney was really starting to get on her nerves. Usually it was John who would shut him up, or at least snap him out of his 'funk', but as John was currently..._absent, _it fell to Teyla.

"Rodney," she tried to reason, keeping her voice neutral--though not without difficulty. "There have been _many _times that you have said exactly the same thing, yet there was something to be found. If there is any chance that Colonel Sheppard is or has been here, then we need to find it."

Teyla moved on before Rodney could retaliate, and she could hear him grumbling as he followed her and Ronon.

_"Teyla, this is Lorne; do you copy?"_

Teyla reached up and swiftly activated her comm. "Major Lorne, this is Teyla." Ronon and McKay stopped their search in the immediate area and both activated their radio's, listening in on the conversation.

"We just got word from Atlantis; there's a culling happening on one of the planets we trade with, and they're requesting back-up. Dr. Weir wants both our teams to assist right away."

Teyla sighed in defeat; another obstacle in the search for Colonel Sheppard. "Very well," she agreed. "We will be at the Stargate within twenty minutes. Teyla out." Turning off her comm, Teyla turned to the others; Rodney looked defeated, and Ronon...well, Teyla felt very sorry for any marines he met up with in the gym for the next week or so.

* * *

As soon as both teams set foot on the planet of the culling--Terra, a friendly desert planet that offered a juicy, plum-like fruit and access to an Ancient temple located outside of the city--they were struck by a wave of panic so intense it was practically tangible. Villagers were scrambling around the city, collecting their most prized possessions and their families.

"Alright," said Major Lorne, who had to yell for the teams to hear him. "Let's get these people out of here as quickly as possible." Teyla nodded in agreement and they went to work, organizing the villages for evacuation to the labyrinth of underground caves, located underneath the Ancient temple.

As she worked, Teyla could not help but think, with no small amount of cynicism, that evacuating a village from an attack of life-sucking aliens _just wasn't the same _without John around.

* * *

The unearthly--no pun intended--wailing of the hive ship's alarm woke John from the little rest he had managed to wrangle. Grumbling profanely (something about the ancestry of the ancients and their supposed IQ levels), he grabbed his boots and thigh holster, pulling and strapping everything on even as he was heading out the door, directing himself towards the audience chamber.

He was the last one there (of the senior staff); Julie nodded curtly to him as he jogged inside.

"What's up?" he asked, slightly breathless.

"The enemy hive has begun culling the planet," she explained. "This is a veritable act of aggression, and we must respond."

_Oh crap._

"I would like you to ready the darts, just in case negotiations do not succeed," she said to Sheppard, who nodded. "Go," she prompted. Nodding again, Sheppard sprinted out of the audience chamber.

Before he went far though, he heard Moe calling out behind him. "Hey! Shemp!" He skidded to a stop and turned around. Moe jogged over to him, a black bundle under his arm. "Thought I'd give you this; they were finished earlier." Sheppard's eyes lit up as he realized what Moe was giving him.

"Seriously?" he asked, grinning. Moe waggled his eyebrows in response, holding out the bundle. Sheppard took it and unfolded it, revealing a black leather flight jacket, like the one he had back on Atlantis. But _this _one was inscribed in Wraith. On the left sleeve, '_Flight Commander Shemp' _was stitched in silver Wraith letters, which John could now read. On the back was written, also in Wraith, _'Team Stooge: Something, Somewhere, Went Terribly Wrong'._

Sheppard grinning, shrugging into the jacket. He, Moe, Curly, and Larry had come up with these a while ago, but the Wraith version of a seamstress had been swamped with work (thanks to the science department, who were having a chemistry sleepover and spilled hazardous chemicals all over the room and didn't clean up; not that you could blame that--after everything burst into flames, anyway.) But it seemed that Vicky--the seamstress--had come through.

"Thanks, Moe," said Sheppard clapping him on the shoulder, almost like he would Rodney or Ronon; he got another pang of nostalgia. "Well, must be off," he quipped, jerking a thumb in the 'general direction' of the dart bay. "Miscreants to get into the air, darts to peg with traffic violation--never mind."

Shaking his head, he nodded once more to Moe and made his way to the dart bay, to his waiting pilots.

* * *

A/N: I know: no excuses for taking so long. I sorry! Well, I know this one was a little too serious (one of my 'excuses'; I don't do serious too well) but what did you think?


	17. Culling, Culling, Culled

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: In case you HAVEN'T gotten the memo yet (hard not to with my constant, annoying disclaimers) I do not own Stargate. What I DO own is Julie, Moe, Curly, Larry, MacWraither, Vicky, Doug, that-engineer-guy-whose-name-escapes-me, & co. How's that Brad Wright the Traitor? Huh? Stick THAT in your juice box and suck it! Sorry; carried away. _Any_ways...

WARNING: Contains extreme stupidity. As my amazing orchestra teacher, Mr. D, would say: "Honestly, it's enough to drive you sane."

Chapter 17: Culling, Culling, Culled

As soon as Sheppard skidded into the dart bay, he was practically ambushed by a group of anxious Wraith pilots. Most of them were very young--by Wraith standards, anyway--and he was struck, not for the first time, by an image of himself and his fellow Air Force pilots when they first joined up. It was sad to think that he might never see any of these Wraith again; in fact, by now he even considered many of them friends. _Oh I hope Ronon never finds out, _he found himself thinking, already wincing at the beating he would receive in the form of a sparring session.

"Listen up," he yelled. The bay immediately went quiet, all eyes on him. "The enemy hive is culling the planet below, you know, the one that they're...not supposed to cull." _Lame-o. _"Ju--the Queen wants us ready for a fight, so...I want all pilots standing by, at their stations." at blank looks from the Wraith, he rolled his eyes and said, "that would mean your appointed darts, for those of you who don't know." _and _should _know. Never thought I'd miss military discipline this much._

"Ooh," they all said.

"Right," said Sheppard, rolling his eyes. "I want everyone checking systems on their darts and in the cockpit, ready for combat." There was a pause. "That means _now, _soldiers!" Sheppard barked so loudly that the entire congregation jumped and began bounding towards their ships to get out of his way. Sheppard had to marvel for a moment at how incredibly like a drill sergeant he sounded. _Must come with the job.

* * *

_Waiting for the order to move in was hell. John had gone over every dart--a very hasty check, anyway--and was now seated in his own aircraft, just like all of his students were. Finally, after what seemed like hours (at the risk of sounding cliche), Julie gave the order to commence, and Sheppard flew out of the dart bay, accompanied by the other pilots.

"Listen up, dart pilots," Sheppard said through the communications network of the darts. "Our orders are to go down to the planet, beam up any humans we can find, and exit the planet through the side that the enemy hive is not watching. When the hive has been either neutralized or chased away, then we are to let the humans go back on their planet. Our hive will provide cover fire, and the Alliance will provide cover with their darts. Your only task is ensuring the safety of the civilians. Is that understood?"

"_Yes sir,_" he heard over the comm. _Who's in charge now?_ He thought with some satisfaction, picturing his jerk of a flight instructor from his rookie days. Shoving aside a quick little mental victory dance, John focused on the planet, aiming his dart straight for the village. When he and his darts were in range, he ordered, "Spread out; get ready to beam 'em up." As the ships spread wide, he said, "_Now!_"

Immediately, twenty-plus culling beams were activated, temporarily demolecularizing terrified villagers. Reminding himself that he was doing this to _help _them, he concentrated completely on getting the villagers to safety. _Just like old times..._He had flashbacks of him and Teyla helping Orin and his family during the culling before the Wraith siege of Atlantis; of him and his time hiding villagers in the hills as their homes were pulverized from space. In fact, he was starting to doubt the Wraith again...

But there was time for that later. Right now, he was some cross between James Bond and James T. Kirk: be the freakin' hero, show off the cool gadgets, but have the cool scifi tech and beaming technology..._either way you get the girl...Focus!_

This was, of course, easier said than done.

* * *

Teyla was ushering a group of frightened villagers towards the foothills when the darts arrived. Spreading out quickly, they began to beam up villagers almost immediately. She egged the villagers on, urging them to move faster. She could see Ronon, Rodney, and Major Lorne herding the natives, getting them to move faster and faster, trying to stay ahead of the darts.

She knew it was useless, but there wasn't much she could do about it. As one of the darts flew by, its beam snatched up Major Lorne and his group. Fighting down her dismay and grief, Teyla pushed the thought forcefully from her mind, concentrating only on preventing the capture of others.

It was a hopeless battle though; soon enough, Rodney and his group were gone.

Then Ronon and his.

Then everything went a blinding white...then black.

* * *

A/N: Um...hi? I know; I have NO excuse for taking so long (blame NaNoWriMo!). Short, boring chapter, I know, but trust me: the next one will be longer and better. And the plot will get a kick in the pants. Try not to kill me please, or I won't be able to finish (does that prevent you killing me, or does that make you want to kill me even more? You know...nevermind) Review!


	18. Hail the ConqueringLosers?

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: Okay. Seriously. I don't own it. As much as I'd _like _to, I know that if I said I did, then they'd probably feed me to the Wraith. Hm...maybe I can distract them with Uno...

WARNING: Contains extreme stupidity. Seriously guys; there's a very good reason (several, actually) why this stuff was never put in the show.

A/N: HOLY COW! 71 Reviews! That's...a lot. You guys are awesome; love you all! You make me very happy author :)

* * *

To my recent reviewers...  
**magicisagift: **glad you're liking it! I will update more regularly, I promise!  
**masterling: **I aim to please ;) glad it's fun for you!  
**SGA-Seven: **your review really made me smile; thank you!!!  
**starscomingalive: **I'm hurrying! I'm hurrying!  
**Wraith lover: **always glad to get new reviewers; SO glad you like it!

Hope you guys like this one!

*Sheppy hugs to you all*

* * *

Chapter 18: Hail the Conquering...Losers?

Sheppard exited his dart to deafening cheers from the crew of the hive. His fleet had succeeded; the villagers were safe, and with minimal casualties. Nevertheless, they had lost two pilots, Matt and Shwartz.

He jumped down unsteadily, his knees shaking just slightly from relief. After all, it wasn't every day that he not only had to navigate a dart, but also to use it to save a bunch of villagers.

"I'm the new Lancelot or the Pegasus Galaxy," chuckled Sheppard quietly, then winced. "Minus the Guinevere. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad one."

"What was that?" asked Moe, who had come up behind him, throwing an arm over his shoulders. "Hey," he said, not giving John a chance to answer. "You're wearing your jacket!"

"'Course I am," said John neutrally. He wouldn't admit it, but it had quickly become a sort of good luck charm. "Good thing t--"

"Yeah yeah," interrupted Larry, coming up next to him. "Hey, look, Julie wants to talk with you, so you'd better get your buttinsky to the audience chamber."

"Hey," protested Shep half-heartedly.

Larry made an impatient gesture. "Yes, I know. Wonderful buttinksy and all, but her highness is in a bad head. Headache."

_That _got him moving. There was nothing John had witnessed that was worse than a Wraith queen with a migraine, and he had witnessed quite a bit, and that was including seeing a Genii shot in the foot. _That _was funny.

* * *

Running at a sprint towards the audience chamber, John made it in half the time it would have normally taken. Skidding to a stop in front of the door (this seemed to be his usual form of entrance), he stumbled over to where Julie was standing rolling her eyes at him.

"Honestly, Shemp," she said, exasperated (it occurred to John that this was the mood she was usually in). "What am I supposed to do with a flight commander that can't be serious about anything for more than fen of your Atlantean minutes?"

John tried to look innocent. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he denied.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "So that must have been my _adviser _that taught the drones how to play the game called 'flag football', and it must have been my technician that has half the dart pilots going around, peeking around corners, and humming what they call the 'Mission Impossible Theme'. Oh, and of course, it was my chief scientist that must have everyone saying 'Houston we have a problem,' every time there's an error.

_Oops._

"Of _course _it was them," he said, knowing that she wasn't going to buy a word of it. "Okay, so I may have..._suggested _one or two of those...or three."

She shook her head. "Whatever." Sheppard raised his eyebrows; Julie? Resorting to slang? The galaxy really _was _going to the dogs...vampire-things...whatever. "That is not why I called you here. What I _intended _to say, was good work. And also, that the enemy hive has backed down, if only temporarily. I suggest that you get some sleep, and be prepared to meet with the other commanders in a few hours to discuss defense tactics. I have a hunch that we'll need them." If there was only one thing that Sheppard had learned lately, it was that you _never _argued with Julie's hunches. They were almost always right.

"Yes ma'am," said Sheppard, saluting smartly, eliciting another eye roll from the queen. He was just turning around to leave when he decided to ask the question that had been bothering him all day; or rather, what he _assumed _was day.

"Ma'am," he said hesitantly. "I know that you wanted us to save the villagers to keep the other Wraith from getting to them, but what's the whole reason? I mean, why do you guys care so much about these humans?"

She regarded him silently. "Mostly," she said slowly, looking him straight in the eye, "it is because we are not quite so callous as others of our kind. As you have no doubt noticed, the humans we feed from are usually mostly dead and almost always terminally ill."

"Yeah, I kind of picked up on that," John answered, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. Being on a hive ship meant an uncomfortable amount of time watching Wraith feed.

"Well, this is because we believe that even humans have a right to a full life, as do all living beings."

"Gee thanks," said Sheppard. "...I think."

"Surely you have similar instances where you come from," said Julie.

"Oh yeah," he answered casually. "We have lots of neat names for 'em. Vegans, vegetarians, treehuggers, Al Gore..."

"It is another thing that marks us as different," said Julie levelly.

"Oh I bet," Sheppard muttered to himself. "I bet it is."

* * *

The first thing Teyla was aware of was the eerie silence that comes only from Wraith hive ships. Sitting up slowly, she winced, rubbing the back of her head, where she was most sore. Looking around her, she discovered she was right.

She was a prisoner of the Wraith.

Again.

* * *

A/N: Well? What'd you guys think? Next chapter will be a sort of reunion, but very funny (in my twisted opinion) and possibly the Wraith attempting to play capture the flag (the original scene that inspired the story). Review, please! Oh, and there is a poll up on my profile page: 'Who is your favorite Wraith in _My Roommate Is a Wraith_?' TODAY IS MY ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY FOR WRITING/POSTING ON FANFIC, SO REVIEWS ARE ESPECIALLY WELCOME NOW!


	19. The A Team

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: Alright. If you haven't got this already, I REALLY don't own Stargate. Seriously. No need to send in the Wraith-dogs after me; their bite really IS worse than their bark, trust me *rubs back tenderly*.

WARNING: Contains unhealthily high quantities of stupidity. May be hazardous to your health

Chapter 19: The A-Team

"...and bears that shoot lasers out of their eyes."

John blinked, half-asleep, head resting in one hand as he started at MacWraither, who was sitting in front of him, talking animatedly about something or other. John was totally lost at this point.

"What? Sorry, you lost me at the robotic ducks."

MacWraither sighed patiently. "It's quite all right, commander," he said, patting Sheppard's hand with his own (the non-feeding hand, thank goodness). "As I was saying, after the robotic ducks came the ninja cats and bunnies. _Then, _there was--"

"Commander!" Sheppard's head snapped up at Todd's voice.

"Yeah?" he said quickly, not daring to hope too much.

"You are needed," Todd said.

Resisting the urge to jump in the air and do a victory dance, John leapt up with a quiet, "Thank _God,_" and ran out, leaving MacWraither in his metaphorical dust.

* * *

Apparently, Julie had thought that it would be easier for the prisoners to talk to Sheppard, seeing as though he was the only one on the Hive not in a cell that as human, and they might listen to him rather than the other Wraith. After all, it's hard to listen to someone who looks like they want to eat you (not that the comparison wasn't well founded).

Sheppard's orders were to talk to them and explain what the heck was going on. Even though this was an admirable task, and very important, there was one task that was much more pressing.

Capture the flag.

Sheppard had promised to teach the Wraith how to play capture the flag, since he had told them about his favorite games as a kid, and capture the flag had been right up there with flag football. As he'd already taught them to play the latter, he decided that he'd better make good on teaching the former before they revolted (and he knew from bitter experience that Wraith revolts were nothing pretty. On a normal hive it was to be feared; on _this _hive, it was worse. It was the alien equivalent to a high school jocks-greasers 'your momma' duel. _Definitely _to be feared.)

So, after telling Julie that he would see to it _immediately, _he promptly went to the Wraith armory, where the 'troops' were waiting for his orders.

Swiftly, he divided the group into two large teams (roughly forty to a team), with Moe and himself as the captains. On his side, he made sure he had MacWraither and Todd--Todd for the reason that the two made a good team and knew how to work together, not to mention the fact that he was _good. _And MacWraither for the same reason he might recruit McKay: something along the lines of "I know where you sleep and I control the water supply"--while Larry and Curly were on Moe's team (no shocker there).

"Right," said Sheppard in a carrying voice to all assembled. "The only weapons permitted are stunners; _only shoot someone once, _people." He remembered the joke back at the SGC for Zat guns, and wondered if it applied to Wraith stunners: _Once to stun, twice to kill, thrice...wait a minute; what kind of sick person shoots a dead body?_

This was his military dream; to play something like this with the whole military contingent while using non-lethal weapons. He'd pitched the idea to Elizabeth, of course, but she--and the SGC--had refused, saying it was 'bad form'.

"If you violate this rule--shooting with anything else, stabbing, choking, or killing anyone _period, _then I'll...throw you out of the airlock," he said, trying to sound fierce; he wasn't quite sure if he succeeded or not, but he felt that it got the point through; that was the Atlantis equivalent to handing out toilet scrubbing duty, something that was widely dreaded and the cause of many a shudder among the brave--and not so brave--of the Pegasus Galaxy.

"Yes sir!" chorused the 'troops'.

"Right then," said Sheppard. "You all know the rules, right?" After another affirmative chorus, he nodded. "Right. Well then, off you go," he said, making a shooing gesture. "My team, this way!" After a brief pause, he stopped and said, smiling, "Just to avoid confusion, Moe: your team is B-Team. This team," he said, circling his hand around to gesture his team, "is," he snickered, "the A-Team." He had to stop to stifle his chuckles.

"We'll try not to mix it up," Maverick said, rolling his eyes. He didn't understand the joke, but he knew enough to know that his commander was in another peak of humor.

"I pity the fool," giggled Sheppard in a slightly-hoarse, mock-low voice. Then he bent double, slapping his thigh as he laughed openly.

"All right," he said after a few minutes, wiping his eyes from his fit of laughter. After a few somewhat unmanly giggles, he said, "Move out."

* * *

Teyla sat down on the cold floor of her cell, having grown tired of pacing.

Thankfully, she had been put in the same cell as her team and Major Lorne, along with a few villagers. It was impossible to know (and extremely difficult to estimate) how much time elapses when one is on a hive ship. There are no clocks, no sundials, no loud-mouthed sentries who think it's their sworn duty to bawl out the exact hour every time a stupid bell chimes.

No. Instead, there is the blue of hyperspace seen from the occasional window and a rare snore.

Unfortunately for Teyla, there were none of these in the cells, where she and the others were being kept.

It was driving her _mad._

"Anything yet?"

Rolling her eyes, her back to Rodney so he wouldn't see, she said, "No, Rodney. I have neither seen nor heard any news. If I had, or if I do, I shall inform you immediately."

"Oh," floundered McKay, not quite sure if she was being sarcastic. "Well, that's good then. Good."

Rolling her eyes again, Teyla went back to her vigil.

* * *

Creeping around the corner, John crouched down, peeking at the scene in the hallway. Nodding his satisfaction, he turned back to his team, informing them of the situation with standard military hand gestures. _Two guards, no flag._

His comrades--Maverick, Doug, and a Wraith he had deemed Mark--nodded, spreading out in formation, ready for the order to stun and hide the guards.

_You guys are getting way too into this, _he thought in amusement.

He made a quick, sharp hand motion, and his team burst into silent action.

Every time he thought that he'd finally stopped underestimating the Wraith, they proved him wrong. They moved faster than even Ronon could, silently stunning the two guards and hiding them in the rafters above.

John raised his eyebrows, nodding in impressed approval. "Well done," he said, glancing at his three companions; Maverick beamed.

"Right," said John. "I'm guessing they'll have their flag somewhere near the back of the cells. If we head there quick, we can take a look-see, tell if we're right, and then we'll take it from there. _Capiche?_" Blank stares. Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Got it?" Nods. "Good." He remembered the phrase one of his old commanding officers used to use (also his mother): _Get it? Got it? Good._

"Right then; head out."

* * *

Teyla was getting irritable. And even Ronon knew that an irritable Teyla was not a Teyla you wanted to approach...at least not unless you had a big stick and and a three foot-thick wall of bullet-proof glass on your side. And maybe a tranquilizer gun as well.

"Any news?" asked Rodney again.

Teyla took a big breath, a vein pulsing in her temple. "For the last time Rodney, _no--_"

She cut off as she heard footsteps in the hallway. Holding her hand up for silence, she moved into the corner by the door to get a better look at who it was. She could hear a voice whispering; but it didn't sound Wraith. Her brow furrowed in puzzlement. _How can it be? Have some of the villagers escap--_

Her mind went numb.

There walking around the corner, was Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard.

* * *

A/N: Cliffie much? Sorry, don't kill me! I promise the next update will be SOON (I'm already working on it!) Tell me what you think!


	20. Can't Touch This

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: Okay; I don't own anything but the Wraith that are NOT in SGA. Sadly, this does not include Todd. *sniffs; throws self at irate Todd, you rolls his eyes and growls*.

WARNING: CONTAINS HIGH AMOUNTS OF STUPIDITY. HAZARDOUS TO HEALTH.

A/N: Oh, and could you guys pretty-please vote on the pole on my profile? It's which Wraith you like best; I want to write a special scene for the winner, so HURRY UP AND VOTE!

Chapter 20: Can't Touch This...I Hope.

"_John?!_"

John Sheppard froze, his team bumping into him from behind.

_Oh _CRAP.

Slowly turning around, he faced one of the cells, his eyes widening in surprise. There was his team--HIS team, from Atlantis--in one of the Wraith holding cells. Teyla, Ronon, McKay, Lorne, and a few of the villagers they had rescued.

Again, he thought _oh CRAP._

He was really in for it.

"Hey Teyla," he said lamely, wetting his lips nervously, fiddling with his stunner, wondering if he should stun them and make a run for it. _I'll never get away with it. Move to some obscure planet, change my name, dye my hair--wait, NO! NOT THE HAIR!!!_

"Sheppard?!"

Sheppard grimaced, his attempt at a smile failing miserabley. "Hey Rodney," he said with a small wave. "Ronon, Lorne." _Soooooo dead._

"Wha-wha-what..." stuttered Rodney, his eyes wide. _Hope he hasn't seen the Wraith yet,_ thought Sheppard humorlessly.

"What are you doing here?" asked Teyla sharply.

"Well," laughed Sheppard nervously. "Now _that, that _is a long story. See--"

Just then, Maverick skidded over to John, and everyone in the cell tensed, ready for a fight; one of the villagers had to stifle a scream.

"John, behind you!" warned Teyla.

John spun around, then relaxed. "Jeez," he said, breathing hard. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" he hissed at a chagrined Maverick.

"Sorry sir," said Maverick. _If Wraith could blush, he'd be on fire, _though Sheppard, raising an eyebrow. Finally he just shook his head, motioning the young pilot over to his stunned teammates.

"Mav, this is Teyla, Rodney, Ronon, Major Lorne, and...sorry, guys," he said to the villagers. "I don't actually know your names. Teyla, Rodney, Ronon, Lorne: this is Maverick. He's a dart pilot. _In training,_" he added with emphasis as Maverick swelled up with pride; he promptly deflated.

"Hey," he said with a small wave. Then, turning back to his commander, he said. "Doug and Mac and waiting just around the corner. Should I..." he made a 'go and get them' motion with his hands, still a little awkward.

"Yeah, sure," said Sheppard, waving him off and rolling his eyes. With a quick, breathy '_thank you!_' from the young Wraith, he was gone.

Still shaking his head, Sheppard said. "Kids these days. Honestly."

"What?" asked Rodney, still dumbstruck. "You're, you're..._friends _with that thing?!

The Lanteans glimpsed a glint of steel in the colonel's eyes as he frowned. "_He, _is one of my students," said Sheppard hardly. "A damn right prodigy, I'll have you know."

Just then, the three Wraith came bustling around the corner, coming to a stop before their team leader. Doug kept a wary eye out; after all, he wasn't the hive's military commander without reason.

"Ah," said Sheppard, turning to the new-comers. "And this is MacWraither, our ship's--" he waggled his eyebrows at his old teammates --"MacGyver."

_That _snapped Rodney out of it pretty quick.

"_What?!_" he sputtered. "Jeez, Sheppard! We leave you alone for _five minutes _and you go all Dora the Explorer on us and join a tribe of primitive vampires and teach them about 80's television?! What is _wrong _with you?!"

"Hey," objected Maverick indignantly. "Don't talk to him that way! Flight Commander Shemp is the best commander in the whole alliance," he said proudly.

Teyla rose her eyebrows. "Indeed? Then I'm sure _Flight Commander Shemp _can give us a _very _good explanation," she said, enunciating every word carefully and dangerously.

Sheppard deflated so quickly that you might've thought someone cut off the helium.

"Oh, um, _yeah,_" he said, trying to sound confident. _Fake it. _"Well, um...you see, after I uh, went _missing, _these guys gave me a lift, and I sort of...stayed on for a while, since, well they needed my help, see? So I've been helping out and um...teaching them a bit about our culture, and...uh..."

"And teaching us how to fly the darts," supplied Maverick 'helpfully'.

Sheppard winced as Teyla turned a scathing glance on him. "You've been teaching them how to be even more formidible opponents?" asked Teyla in a deceptively sweet voice. "How kind of you, _Colonel._"

"Yeah," said Sheppard, just now thinking that it might be a _very _good idea to leave them in the cell. "Well, Julie asked me to speak to all the villagers--and you guys, I guess--so I'll see you real soon. But right now," he said, holding up a finger to stave off the protests of just about everyone in the cell, "I'm on the clock. This is life or death right here."

His teammates began to look alarmed and even a touch concerned. "Life or death?" muttered Rodney nervously, glancing around.

"Yes Rodney," said John seriously, milking it for all it was worth. If it could get him out of this...

"It's called Capture the Flag," Maverick added, trying--and once again failing--to assist his commander.

The concern plummeted into the depths of somewhere fall less pleasant than a Hive ship (if only a little).

"Great job, _Maverick,_" growled Sheppard. "Way to go."

"What?" asked Maverick, confused.

"Capture the Flag?!" sputtered McKay, red in the face.

"With guns," Sheppard added testily. "And life-sucking Ozzy Osmond wannabes who can stick to the ceiling." Then, without waiting for further retribution, he grabbed MacWraither and Doug by their shirt collars and dragged them down the hall, Maverick following like a doting puppy.

Behind him, John heard the doomsday call from Teyla:

"When this is over, _Colonel_: gym. Bantos rods."

Sheppard winced and groaned.

"I am so dead," he whimpered.

* * *

A/N: WOW. 90 reviews. You guys are the BEST! Well, here's the 'confrontation scene', hope you liked it! I know, it's short, but I'll have more in the next chapter (wonder how many times I've said _that_) as well as *gasp* some actual _plot! _I know, amazing. Well, review please!!! I love hearing from you guys!


	21. Once More Into the Breach

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: Okay. I do NOT own Stargate (wish I did), or the Wraith (those tenacious little bastards), or anything SciFi/MGM related (I'm not sure if that's a _good _thing or a _bad _thing.)

WARNING: Contains dangerously high levels of senility/insanity. DO NOT TRUST! (Also, if a Wraith tells you to go hug an Iratus bug, DO NOT LISTEN. Sheppard will _tell _you that this is a _BAD IDEA._

Chapter 21: Once More Into the Breach

"So that was your old team, huh?"

Sheppard rolled his eyes, trying to bludgeon Maverick. He had been at this for the past ten minutes, ever since they rounded the corner after seeing Teyla and the others.

"Sooooo, are they pilots too?"

_One, two, three..._

"Do they know how to fly darts?"

_Ten, nine, eight..._

"How long have you guys been a team? Did you all grow up together?"

_Okay, this counting to ten thing is grossly overrated._

"Are they your really good friends, or are they just your team? Do you guys go on missions? Are you all warriors? Are--"

"MAVERICK!" Sheppard yelled, snapping. He whirled to face the stunned-into-silence pilot. "Zip it!" he hissed, making a comical zipping gesture across his own face. As Sheppard stormed ahead, Maverick exchanged a puzzled look with Doug, who shrugged, mouthing 'don't look at me'. Maverick rolled his eyes and ploughed on after Sheppard, followed by a snickering Doug.

* * *

Sheppard was humming the _James Bond _theme.

He couldn't help it. He really couldn't. He was sneaking around neon-lit corridors with a side-arm-sized Wraith stunner, was wearing a black jacket, and was on a mission; what _else _was he supposed to do?! _Except I have better hair than Sean Connery, _he thought distractedly. _As far as swooning girls go, I _suppose _we're tied..._

They were close to where they figured the flag would be hidden. The game plan had been for the other teams to draw B-Team away slowly away from the center of their operations, and Sheppard's team would simply follow the line of empty corridors to the flag.

Well, that and the sounds of thuds, stunners, and cussing.

_If it works for the military, it'll work for the Wraith, _Sheppard had internally reasoned. And he'd been spot-on, too.

"Any sign of B-Team?" muttered Doug from behind Sheppard.

John shook his head minimally. "No. I think we're clear." After a quick three-second double-check, Sheppard nodded and gestured one-handed for the others to follow him in.

_Once more into the breach, my friends, _he quipped. What was it with him and quotes today? He usually kept them limited to Star Wars, Star Trek, and the occasional Forrest Gump reference. But ever since he had come to the Hive, he the Fount of All Worthless-But-Funny (to him) Quotes. _A-Team, James Bond, Mission: Impossible, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Top Gun... _The list went on. He had to admit, it would be a whole lot funnier if any of the Wraith knew what the heck he was talking about.

_Alas, poor Yorick...NO! NO SHAKESPEARE!!!_

Maverick's shout cut through his distracted thought process. "_Commander! Look out!_"

Sheppard had time for an unintelligible 'huh?' before he saw a greenish fist coming out of nowhere to whack him one. He ducked, just in time, and his assailant missed by inches. "Oh _crap,_" he muttered from his crouched position. _This always happen when you're least expecting it._

It was official.

Murphey's Law was twice as vigilant in the Pegasus Galaxy.

With a natural instinct born of constant life-or-death situations that pop up at all times and places, John's stunner was in his hand and fired before you could say 'Chevron One encoded.' The drone fell heavily to the fog-covered floor and Sheppard heaved a relieved sigh. It would have been fairly bad if the A-Team's leader had gotten busted by a drone, especially when he wasn't paying attention.

_Since when do I care about my reputation among the Wraith ranks? _He snarked internally. Shoving the question aside, he accepted Doug's outstretched non-feeding-hand and let himself be pulled upright.

"Thanks," he said to his companions--for both the hand and the warning--and nodded, holstering his stunner. "Almost there, I think." Far more alert this time, he crept onward, gun first, head second.

When he reached one of the storerooms near the rear-middle part of the ship, he held up his hand, calling for a halt. He hadn't gotten around to teaching the Wraith all of the military hand signals, but they'd learned the most important ones. Sheppard's only beef with the signals was that they didn't have any for 'idiot', 'moron', 'are you nuts?!', and 'I'm hungry.'

With a rapid-fire procession of hand-signals, he conveyed his message: _five Wraith, target in sight, middle of the room. Doug and I go in first, take out guards, Maverick grab target, head out. _Mentally, he added, _world saved, rest of the day off._

_Three, two, one..._

Sheppard launched himself into the store-room, barely aware of Doug following his lead. Taking a left spin, he ducked under one of the stun blasts aimed at him and returned fire, making quick work of the closest drone. Rushing forward, he attacked the next drone head-on, using his smaller mass to his advantage by ramming it right in the gut and bowling him over. He decided to keep to himself the fact that he'd picked that one up from an episode of MacGyver.

After all five drones had been dispatched, Maverick threw himself at the flag--a black piece of fabric resting on a crate in the middle of the room with the Wraith-word 'flag' painted on it in neon paint--and twisted in mid-air to snatch it. After a less-than-graceful landing, he straightened his jacket and held up the 'flag'. "Got it," he said simply, clearing his throat self-conciously.

Sheppard stared. "You got that from Mission Impossible, didn't you?" he accused suspiciously.

If it was possible for a Wraith to blush, Maverick did it. "Did not," he defended.

"Did too," snarked Sheppard.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did--"

"HEY!"

They both turned to Doug who was standing by the door. "Are you coming?" he asked patiently.

"Sorry," Sheppard and Maverick said in unison. Bustling out the door, they made their way to the armory to solidify their position as winners.

* * *

After a celabratory celebration in the armory with the victorious A-Team and the good-spirited B-Team, Sheppard made his way back to his quarters, trying not to think about what would happen when Julie came back from her meeting with the alliance and found that Sheppard not only held a capture the flag battle on her ship, but also put off talking to the villagers.

He would _have _to do it tomorrow. There was no getting out of it, not if he wanted to keep his head in the position it was in.

He threw himself down on his bed, sighing.

_Teyla is going to _kill _me, _he thought with absolute certainty.

* * *

A/N: Um...hi? Sorry for taking an inhumanly long time to update; I had serious writers block. But I've already started on the next chapter and know what to do for it. And 102 reviews!!!!!! YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST!!! *hands out smoothies and Wraith cookies*


	22. Nag, Nag, Nag

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: As you know (if you don't by now...I'm not even going to say it), I DO NOT OWN Stargate. So you can all stop shooting stunners at me and give Ronon back his gun before he comes after ME. It wouldn't be the first time.

WARNING: Contains dangerously high amounts of stupidity and frivolity and impossible one-liners. Could be hazardous to your heath. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

Chapter 22: Nag, Nag, Nag

"You are, without a doubt, the _worst _human to _ever _set foot on this ship. I cannot _believe _I appointed you as my flight commander! You're, you're irresponsible, immature, volatile, rash..."

Sheppard ticked off these traits as Julie went on, growing increasingly worried; after all, he was running out of fingers to count on, which was the only thing keeping his head above the universal waters of extreme boredom.

When he had gone to report to Julie after the game, he had been prepared for a slap on the wrist, sure, but _nothing _like this. This was a dishing-out of Elizabeth Weir proportions! He'd gotten the stern looks, the almost-yelling, the full dressing-down.

And she was still going!

Inwardly, Sheppard marveled at her endurance. Lecturing, after all (especially lecturing John Sheppard), was an endurance sport. It took a lot out of you. John's mother had once compared it to trying to get John's hair to stay down: _it's labor-intensive._

"..._Commander._"

John was snapped out of his boredom-induced reverie.

"Yeah?" he said in a too-chipper voice.

Julie was glaring at him. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you?" she asked accusingly.

"Um," Sheppard stuttered. "Of course I did! I uh...there was the bit about um..."

"Oh forget it," Julie snapped, rubbing her temples. "Go, just _go. _Talk to the villagers, and do your rounds."

"Yes ma'am," Sheppard said, snapping a crisp military salute, figuring that it wouldn't hurt to lay it on a bit. Turning crisply on his heel he marched out of the audience chamber, biting back the impulse to sigh in relief. _Finally.

* * *

_Making his way to the cells, he was met with Maverick, Larry, Curly, and Moe, who told him that they were coming with him.

"Why the hell are you doing that?" asked Sheppard snippily. The last thing he needed was witnesses to the dressing-down he was going to get from Teyla over this.

"Why the hell not?" asked Maverick cockily. Sheppard glared at him, and he cowed, looking down at his shoes as he visibly deflated. _Gotta stop teaching them swear-words, _Sheppard vowed to himself. He'd figured out recently that his flight class had been keeping a record of all the cuss words he'd been using, repeating them when the occasion arose. He hadn't been sure whether to be annoyed, amused, or flattered. If he was civilian, most likely annoyed or amused, but since he was military--where good cussing was highly appreciated--he had felt slightly flattered, in addition to amused.

"Because," he stressed to the stooges, "you guys have other stuff to do. Now move. And you," he said, pointing to Maverick as he walked away, "Don't swear." He tried to sound firm...and failed dismally, by the look on Maverick's face.

"Us? Have something to do? Shemp, you surprise me!" Sheppard rolled his eyes as he realized that all four Wraith were following him; there was no way he was going to get rid of them now.

"Well that's why you're _here, _isn't it?" asked Sheppard irritably.

Larry laughed. "Are you kidding? We're here 'cause...um...we're here!"

"Oh, smart one genius," said Moe.

"Yeah, that was a good one!" Laughed Curly, followed by a smack and an 'ow!'

Rolling his eyes, Sheppard tuned them out so he could concentrate on finding an excuse to feed his team. _I was abducted and brainwashed. I was helping a group of strange dread-locked...no no no, I already showed Ronon and Teyla Alien vs. Predator. Dang it..._

By the time they reached the cells, Sheppard had forgone all hope of finding a good excuse; his team knew his well enough to be able to see through it all right away. And while that was a comfort in the field, right now that might as well be the epigram on his tombstone, which would be his headboard as soon as Teyla finished with him.

* * *

They were still in the same cell, not that Sheppard had expected that to change anytime soon. Oh, he had _hoped, _but he hadn't expected it.

Teyla was waiting for him, and she was upright and glaring.

Sheppard whimpered. Thankfully, it was covered up (mostly) by the still-arguing group of Wraith. When Sheppard came to a stop in front of the cells, he mentioned Moe forward, who opened the door for him. Sheppard was still miffed that he couldn't do that. He had argued that they should use access cards, but Julie hadn't really understood what those were, so Sheppard gave up and left it alone.

"Hey Teyla," he said nervously as the four Wraith joined him in the cell, closing the doors behind them. They had no fear of the villagers getting out; they were, after all, the only ones who could open the doors. Maverick leaned against the wall and Larry and Curly sat on the ground, starting a game of tick-tack-toe on the ground (another valuable life-skill that John had taught them). Moe came and stood partially behind Sheppard, trying to look supportive and/or threatening. He wasn't quite sure which to choose.

"Hello Colonel," Teyla replied frostily.

Sheppard shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, um...look, Julie wanted me to come--"

"Julie?" squawked McKay. "Who the heck is Julie?"

"The queen," said Sheppard. "Anyway--"

"You named the queen too?!" interjected McKay. "My God, Sheppard, did you name the _ship _too?!"

"No, of course not," said Sheppard, blushing and looking away. He made a mental note to get rid of the list of possible names for the ship that he had stashed in his quarters. "Look, Julie asked me to come and brief you guys on the situation."

"Situation?" interrupted McKay again. "What--"

"MCKAY!" Yelled Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla, and just about everyone else in the cell. Obviously they had become acquainted during their stay.

"Sorry," mumbled McKay, sitting back down.

"Right," said Sheppard firmly. "Well, the _situation _is that there was a hive that tried to cull your planet," he nodded to the villagers, "and they weren't supposed to. See, your planet is in this hive's territory, and since these guys never cull except for when they really really need to and there's no choice (see, they usually attack other hives and take their um...supply, and use that), but that hive _did _cull the planet, so we needed to beam you guys up and get you here so you wouldn't end up as lunch. So really, we saved your asses."

Sheppard stepped back, looking pleased with himself. There was silence.

"So...what now?" asked Ronon.

"Um, well..." said Sheppard. Julie had told him of course, but he had happened to be playing a game of _Mario Cart _with Todd (who was surprisingly good at video games) when she had told him over the radio, so he hadn't really been paying attention. He racked his brain desperately, trying to come up with an answer. "You'll, uh..."

"--Be relocated as soon as we settle matters with the enemy hive," said Moe from behind Sheppard.

Sheppard released a breath. "Yeah, what Moe said."

"...Moe?" It was one of the villagers this time.

"Yeah," said Sheppard. "Oh, right, introductions..." he fumbled for a bit. "Um, guys, this is Moe, that's Larry and Curly, and you've already met Maverick. Guys, this is Teyla, McKay, Ronon, and...assorted villagers whose names I don't know."

"So that's your Three Stooges, huh?" asked McKay, deadpanned, with a heavy-lidded expression. "The whole reason we're in this mess in the first place?"

"Hey," said Sheppard, easily falling into the Sheppard-McKay SnarkFest routine. "If you hadn't _had _to go to that stupid planet to get your readings, then we wouldn't have been ambushed, and I wouldn't have met these guys _in the first place_." _Oh, burn, _he added silently as McKay visibly struggled for a comeback.

"Regardless," came a Darth-Vader-like voice from behind them, "It doesn't really matter now."

"Hey Todd!" Sheppard greeted the exasperated Wraith who had come up from behind and opened the web-like door to the cell. "What's up?"

"Yo, it's the head C, y'all! _Wha'!_" said Larry in a gangster impression.

"Commander's in the house y'all!" joined in Curly.

"Wiki-wiki," Maverick said, miming turn-tables.

Moe imitated a beat-box intro.

Todd growled.

Sheppard smacked his forehead with his hand.

"The queen," Todd growled, "would like to see the flight commander and his three...comrades."

"Oh crap," Sheppard whispered.

"Amen brother," muttered Moe.

"We will pray for your souls," Maverick dead-panned.

Sheppard silently cursed himself for showing them _Blues Brothers. _After all, the praying wasn't the _only _thing his flight class had picked up from the movie; he'd had several complaints from staff saying that they'd been called 'The Penguin' whenever they gave orders.

"Right," said Sheppard. "Thanks buddy," he nodded at Todd, then turned to his team. "Look, guys, I'll come and talk to you later, but right now I gotta go." He and the other Wraith turned to head down the hallway.

Just as he was turning to leave, Ronon called him back.

"Yeah?" Sheppard answered, turning around.

Ronon decked him, hard. For a second, John could have sworn that he saw yellow birds and heard Julie Andrews belting out about the damn hills that were alive with music.

"What was _that _for?!" Sheppard said, reeling.

Ronon grinned. "Nothing," he said innocently. "But it sure felt good."

Shaking his head in despair, Sheppard turned and jogged off down the corridor, trying not to run into any walls on the way; he was still seeing double (interspersed with yellow birds and flying squirrels).

He had a feeling that one punch was _definitely _not going to be the last of this from Ronon.

* * *

A/N: So, what'd ya think? Again, thank you to all my fabulous reviewers (Saiyura, I hoped the Ronon Decks John scene lived up to your expectations ;) REVIEW PLEASE!!! I love your guys's reviews, they're awesomeness!

Oh, one more thing: I'll be in San Francisco from the 12-15, so I won't have updates this coming week (unless I get a REALLY fast one, but not likely). So, I won't respond to reviews RIGHT AWAY, but I will! I promise! (Please don't sic Ronon on me!)

Lemon bars and Pineapple smoothies to all reviewers!


	23. This Was NOT in the Brochure!

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: Okay. I do not own Stargate, Atlantis, Stargate Atlantis, the team, the Wraith, or any of that jazz. Chuck Norris does. (Just kidding; sorry, I've been listening to my brothers' Chuck Norris joke war all freakin' day. MGM owns it. Except jazz...I dunno who owns that).

WARNING: Contains dangerously high amounts of stupidity and space frivolity. May be dangerous to your health (Great Scot!)

Chapter 23: This Was NOT In the Brochure!

_Oh CRAP._

That was the one thought ricocheting around John Sheppard's mind like a caffeine-addicted ferret on roller skates, hosting a derby with all of its little Ferret Friends. It not in the good way.

He stared at Julie like she'd grown a third head or something. Which was probably how everyone _else _was looking at _him._

"You're kidding, right?" he asked hopefully, knowing that his hope was in vain.

"Certainly not," said Julie. "I assure you, we have the utmost faith in your abilities."

_That's what I'm afraid of, _thought John in his arena of mental freak-outs. "You do realize that this isn't going to go over well, right? I mean, not only are we attacking them, but a _human _is leading the attack. And they're gonna know that. They're gonna be _pissed._" He sent an apologetic glance with that last statement; he kept forgetting that these guys weren't military and didn't really handle 'language' as well as Atlantis did.

"I am quite aware of that, thank you," quipped Julie dryly. "I did not bring you down here to point out the obvious."

_Ouch, _winced John. _She's getting more and more like Elizabeth every day. That is NOT a good thing._

"So let me get this straight," said John seriously. "You want me to lead a strike against the enemy hive--who have refused negotiations--and try to blow them partially out of the water so you guys can bring in the big guns and go all _Red October, _right? Except, this isn't a U-Boat. Well, if we dress up and talk with funny accents, I suppose we could try and pull off _Das Boat, _but if we do I _totally _call dibs on being the captain. That guy was awesome."

There was an awkward pause in the time it took for Moe to sidle up to Julie and murmur a translation of John's rambling.

"Ah," she said when Moe had finished. "Yes, that is what I am asking. Though without these...You-Bots."

"U-Boats," John corrected, restraining an eye-roll.

"Yes, well...moving on from these...boats..." Julie somehow, incredibly, managed to move on smoothly. "Regardless, I'd like you to ready your pilots. Run a few test simulations, some pre-flights, whatever you need. But they need to be ready."

Biting back a sigh, John asked seriously, "How soon?"

"Two of your human days, I expect."

John's eyes went round. "Two days?! You expect me to have these guys whipped into fighting shape in _two days?! _They can barely fly in straight line! I just got Chuck Norris to stop shooting the other pilots with the excuse 'I Thought They Were Hostiles, Sir'. A-and what about Ray? He keeps getting stuck nose-first in corners! I had to physically jump into his dart and steer him out of the corner! And Maverick keeps trying to kamikaze every time someone decides to be funny-man and shout 'Banzai!' These guys aren't ready for a strike!" Sheppard knew he was in panic mode, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Was he really ready to loose twenty young Wraith on the galaxy's occupant sub-space? The casualties would include a lot more than hostile Wraith.

"_Commander Shemp,_" said Julie forcibly. "I need you to be ready. You _have _to be ready. The other hives don't have _nearly _as many pilots as we do, and they're going to need all the help they can get. If we are to defeat this hive, we're going to need to go all out." She stared him straight in the eye, serious to the point of death-defying. "Will you be ready?" She asked again, slowly.

Sheppard sighed heavily and closed him eyes. _This is why you never taught before, _a nagging voice at the back of his head reminded him. _The responsibility. _Then another voice clobbered its way through forcibly, armed with a spatula and a colander (he imagined), saying, _This is why you _did _become a _pilot.

_Damn conscience._

"All right," he said in defeat. "We'll be ready."

* * *

After the meeting, John caught up with Todd, who was swiftly headed to the flight deck. "Hey, Todd," he called, stopping the commander in his tracks.

"Yes, Sheppard?" he growled, not hostile for once.

John decided to go for the direct approach, consequences out the window. "Why is it so incredibly important that we take out this hive? It's just another batch of dinner-crazed baddies. What's the deal? It's not like you guys were after the villagers yourselves, were you?"

Todd paused for a moment, holding Sheppard's gaze. "There are quite a few reasons why this is so important," said Todd, walking slowly down the corridor in the opposite direction he had been heading; John followed without hesitation; he was confident enough in tact to know that Todd didn't want to have this conversation in public.

"One," Todd said when they had reached the end of the corridor. "This would go a long way in strengthening our own alliance. We are weak enough as it is, and we need the support of other Wraith to survive."

"You know, you haven't exactly been clear on what your alliance is all about," said Sheppard. "All I know is that it seems to be a Vegetarian Convention gone Marilyn Manson." Blank stare; Sheppard sighed. "All it seems," he corrected, "is a bunch of Wraith who are trying to avoid feeding on humans as much as possible."

"Ah, yes."

"And if that's the case, how is taking out this hive going to get you more supporters. This isn't some Jackie Chan action film. You're not convincing the kiddies to reach for the spinach by whappin' Bluto a shiner, Popeye."

Todd chuckled, getting the basic gist of the thing. "No, but it'll give us power and credibility. The more power, the more followers. The more followers, the more power. Do you see?"

"Yeah, sure," said John skeptically, letting it drop nonetheless.

"Reason number two," continued Todd, "Is that we are, indeed attempting to save the humans of this world. It is under our protection, and if we fail to protect it, then world will spread among the Wraith and others may be as bold. If that happens, then we will be, as you say, 'dead in the water'. Our mission--and lives--will be forfeit."

"That's a good reason," John agreed.

"And reason number three: they're really starting to piss me off," growled Todd, walking away without a backwards glance.

Sheppard stared after him in shock, not completely comprehending that last comment.

_Did I ever leave combat training on Atlantis? _He questioned himself in disbelief.

* * *

A/N: Was that last line too much? I couldn't resist! I am SOOOOO sorry for the delay in the update; I had tour (San Francisco!!!), then a hospital stay for diabetes complications, and computer bans, and writers block, and general laziness (please don't pull out the sharp pointed sticks! I don't want to be poked! NOOOO!!!). Review please! I LOVE your guys reviews, they're so awesome! You guys write fabulous reviews!


	24. Fear and Pride

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I REALLY don't own Stargate Atlantis. I desperately wish I DID, but I don't. Now, if any of you would like to stage a coup in name against Brad Wright the Traitor and get me rights so I can start the show again...then we'll talk.

WARNING: EXTREMELY stupid. I mean REALLY stupid. This stuff is as stupid as stupid gets (and this is where Tom Hanks gives his two bits of "Stupid is as stupid does".) That's pretty darn stupid. You have been warned.

A/N: I'm sorry if this chapter sounds really angsty; my orchestra teacher (who has taught me how to play the violin since I was 12 and is like a second father to me) was just forced into an early retirement due to budget cuts. So we only get him until May, and then he's leaving. *SO SAD!!!!!*. It's kind of affecting my writing, so I hope this doesn't put a damper on the story.

A/N 2: I'm going to start posting edited versions of MRIAW chapters on my livejournal soon (as well as other SGA fics), so you should check it out. I have a link on my bio page (not the homepage one--though there is a link on there too--but it's just the blue letters 'LJ' in the bio.)

Chapter 24: Fear and Pride

Sheppard was usually frustrated in training, but today was worse by a long shot. He had been up half the night worrying over whether or not his trainees could handle a mission like this. There were still in basic training! They didn't have any combat experience aside from rescuing the villagers a few days previously. They didn't have enough training, enough coordination to complete a strike like this. For this kind of a mission, you needed special ops; people who were trained for years for this kind of thing. People who knew exactly what they were doing. People who knew each other like the backs of their hands, who knew each others strengths and weaknesses, who could _cover _for each other.

But not _his _team. They just weren't _ready _for this.

_And I don't know if they ever _will _be, _he thought with despair as he saw Maverick dip the dart into a nosedive, pulling out a hairsbreadth from the floor. Just like he always did.

_What if he can't pull out soon enough on the mission? _Sheppard worried. _And what about Chuck? What if he actually _does _shoot down a friendly? O-or Ray; if he gets stuck in a corner out there, he's dead. What if Georgie gets turned around? He has a worse sense of direction than McKay does._

_What if I lose one of them?

* * *

_"UNACCEPTABLE!"

John winced as Maverick's face reddened and fell, disappointed. _And it's not even me doing the yelling this time, _Sheppard mused. _Maybe that's a bad thing. _He looked at Todd's furious, glaring face and sighed softly. _Definitely a bad thing._

Todd has volunteered himself to come and help with the training the first day, saying that he could help John 'straighten up his pilots'. Get then to 'take this seriously.' John wasn't sure how or when they had really become 'his' pilots, but they had. They really had.

Sheppard lay on his bed, hands folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling. It had been a long day in training, and he was about to do it all over again in a few short hours. He knew he needed sleep; he hadn't got any the night before. But he couldn't bring himself to fall asleep.

He never got any sleep this close to missions. They only had one day--_one day!_--left to prepare for the strike on the enemy hive. Todd, being an ex-pilot himself, as well as having taught flight classes before, 'offered' to help John out; give him a metaphorical hand.

_He's like a Wraith dictator, _Sheppard thought snappily, repressing the urge to snap a salute and a 'Heil Hitler' or spout off 'Yes, Herr Todd' or 'Right away de Fuhrer.' He knew it wasn't that funny, but right now, hungry, sleep-deprived, and tense, he didn't really care.

"I-I'm sorry, Commander," stuttered Maverick, shame-faced. "I-I d-didn't mean to make you angry; I-I was just practicing my--"

"You near plowed your dart into the floor," snarled Todd.

"But I didn't," said Maverick hopefully. Sheppard winced; there was nothing a straight-up flight instructor hated more than a smart-ass reply. _I should know, _thought Sheppard with more than a little empathy. _I _wrote _the rulebook for pissing off teachers._

Todd seemed to inflate. "You DIDN'T?! I can SEE that you moron! What I DON'T see, is why you almost DID."

"W-well," stuttered Maverick, deflated and a bit terrified. "I-I just--"

"--he was just practicing a maneuver I showed him last week," John jumped in quickly, deciding to spare his prodigy. Maverick gave him a worshipfully thankful look; John winked.

"Oh really?" asked Todd, not buying a word of it.

"Absolutely," said John meaningfully. He knew that Todd would get the hint; this was _his _class. _He _was the flight commander. His word was law here.

_And Todd knows that._

"Of course," Todd said slowly, still not buying it, but knowing his place. "Well," said Todd. "Why don't you continue with your lesson, Commander. I shall observe and comment as I see fit, if that is agreeable?" he added in an amused tone

_As if I'd get a choice in the matter, _though John in mild exasperation; he'd been around long enough to know that it was pointless to try and get your own way when Todd was around.

"Fine," John said with a dry look. He moved off to his anxiously waiting class, Maverick trailing behind him like a lost puppy. "Listen up, kids!" John belted, his students coming to attention."

"Today," Sheppard continued, "You are going to learn the fine art of _stealth flight._" He nodded sagely as there were excited whispers around the room. "Oh yes. You'll need it, trust me..."

For the next two hours, Sheppard briefed his class on the finer points of stealth, having to adjust his original teachings to suit darts, which happened to much much louder than the jumpers and Air Force vessels he was accustomed to dealing with. He made certain that his students paid attention to everything; he didn't want them to miss anything and end up in trouble because of it.

At the end of the class, Sheppard hung back a bit while most of his students went off for who-knows-what they had after flight training.

_Some of them might not come back, _Sheppard thought, his throat closing. _I'm signing their death warrants._

Sighing sadly, Sheppard turned to go.

"Ah...sir?" Sheppard paused, turning around to see a bashful-looking Maverick.

"Yes Maverick?" Sheppard asked wearily.

"I just..." Maverick looked down; Sheppard frowned. Maverick wasn't one to stumble over words (with the exception of Todd). "I wanted to say thank you, sir," he finally spat out.

"What? Oh!" Sheppard said, recalling the Todd incident. "No problem. Just don't do any more dive-bombs with Todd around, alright?" He turned to go, but a noise from his student made him pause. One look at the young pilot's face and Sheppard knew that wasn't quite what he wanted to say.

"It's...it's a bit more than that, sir," mumbled Maverick. _If it's possible for Wraith to blush, _thought Sheppard, _he's doin' it._

"Yeah?" he asked, curious.

"Well..." Maverick took a deep breath. "It's just...our last flight commander didn't really teach us that much. He taught us the basics of 'on/off, steer' and that's about it. I mean, you really _really _know what you're doing! And, I know humans don't exactly..._like..._us. But...you don't seem to really mind. And I'm glad that you're my commander...sir."

Sheppard was floored. No one had ever said something like that to him. It was either 'yes sir' or 'straighten up, slacker.' To hear this kind of declaration from his own student...he was speechless.

"I just...wanted to tell you," Maverick said slowly, eyes off to the side. "You know, just...just in case."

"Maverick..." Sheppard felt like he'd been punched in the gut; he could barely breath. _This whole time in the Pegasus, _he thought, _the _last _thing I expected was _this.

Looking his student straight in the eye, Sheppard did the one thing that any proud military instructor would do: he saluted.

Maverick beamed and returned the salute, a look of pride in his eyes.

_He's a real pilot now, _thought Sheppard with wonder. _The kid's a real pilot!_

"Sir," said Maverick. "Just in case: it's been an honor to serve with you."

"Have you been stealing my _A-Team _DVD's?" Sheppard joked, his voice a tad rough.

"Um..." John laughed at Maverick's deer-in-the-headlights expression.

"Keep 'em," John said gently. "You get a lot more kicks from 'em than I do now."

Maverick grinned. "If you say so, sir."

"I do," Sheppard said, returning the grin. After a moment, he said. "I'm thinking of pulling the flight class for a movie tonight; what do you think?"

"That'd be awesome, sir!" Maverick enthused, already bouncing.

"How 'bout _Top Gun,_" Sheppard said, knowing that Maverick's name-sake movie was his favorite.

"Thanks, sir," Maverick beamed.

"...No problem, kid," Sheppard said softly, lightly punching his prodigy's shoulder before walking back to his quarters, a new spring in his step.

* * *

A/N: So, what'd you think? Personally, this is one of my favorites so far. And yes, the story is a few chapters from the end...I think. You never know with these stories. Review, please!


	25. The Monster Or The Master

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

A/N: SOOOOOO incredibly sorry for the long delay. Testing is now done and over with, and I actually have time to write! (in between swordplay clinic, summer orchestra, and online classes, anyway). Thanks for actually sticking around you guys; you're the best!

Disclaimer: I REALLY don't--look, can I stop posting these yet?

WARNING: This story is stupid. REALLY stupid. If you are one of the "sane" (ha!) people like, say, my weird brother, then you MIGHT want to stay away. Because we're all mad here (why yes, I AM crazy! Ha ha ha! Oooh, it's the pretty jacket that let's you hug yourself all day! I LOVE that jacket!)

Chapter 25: The Monster or the Master

"YOU DID _WHAT?!_"

Sheppard rolled his eyes and stretched his legs, leaning back against the wall outside the cell where his team was staying. "Relax, McKay," he assuaged the agitated astrophysicist. "It's only a strike. Do you _know _how many of those I've done over the years? Get in, kappablooey, get out. _Voila._"

"Look, John," began McKay in a patronizing tone. "Maybe that Wraith capture fried your brain or something, but it's not hard to grasp the one rule of the Pegasus Galaxy: you aren't supposed to be friends with the cannibals. Okay? Repeat after me: _I will not befriend the life-sucking--_"

"Shut up, McKay," growled Sheppard, frowning. "They're not all bad, alright? Just...lay off." Sheppard sulked against the wall.

After a moment of silence, McKay said--sans sarcasm, surprisingly--"You really believe it, don't you?"

Sheppard continued frowning, not looking up. "Whadya mean?"

"You really don't think they're the bad guys anymore, do you? Oh God, you've got Stockholm Syndrome, don't you? That's just _great, _now we're gonna be stuck here for the rest of our lives because you're too busy playing Mr. Friendly--"

Sheppard rolled his eyes and got up, walking away. "Good night, McKay."

* * *

Sheppard lay on his back, arms behind his head. He couldn't sleep; he knew from experience that he wouldn't be able to sleep for at least another hour or so. It was always like this before raids; he just wasn't cut out for the cool and collected mindset. Acting, sure. But he cared too much about everyone else to sleep well knowing that he was leading people to their deaths.

_"The one rule of the Pegasus Galaxy: you aren't supposed to be friends with the cannibals."_

McKay _couldn't _be right; these Wraith were different, he knew they were. _But does that mean they're all different? Are they all really that misunderstood?_

John's thoughts flashed back to his English class his senior year of high school. They had read three books that year: _Wuthering Heights, Frankenstein, _and _Dracula. _John remembered despising all the characters as he read; Cathy and Heathcliffe had no redeeming qualities whatsoever, Dr. Frankenstein was a total SOB, and Dracula was obnoxious. But his least favorite was _Frankenstein. _Sure, the monster had a whole lot of anger to work off, destroying everyone who screamed at him wasn't exactly the best way to do it.

When he'd mentioned in class his dislike of Mary Shelley's characters, his teacher, Mr. Moa, had asked him one question: _do you blame the monster, or the master?_

John pondered that thought forever after that. Even now, as he lay in bed, Todd's words came back to him just as Mr. Moa's had:

_Do you blame the Wraith, or the master?

* * *

_The Dart Bay was a bustle of alien activity the following morning. Pilots ran all over the bay, finalizing preparations for the strike. System checks, repairs, and tune-ups made up the morning's activity.

John Sheppard walked confidently into the bay, flight helmet under his arm, Wraith jacket in place. He had already had his lecture from the stooges that morning.

Striding towards his dart, John gave confident greetings to his students, lifting the gloom considerably. When he reached his craft, John hopped lithely into the cockpit, tapping his three dashboard pictures for good luck: one of him and his Atlantis team, one of a skyview of Atlantis, and one of his dart class.

Putting his mike and oxygen mask in place, John prepped for flight. _Systems check...brakes, go. HUD, go. Acceleration controls, go. Weapons console, go..._

_Looks like we are go, _John muttered internally, the euphoric adrenaline rush of the flight starting to come on. _This _was why he had become a pilot.

"Housten, we are go for launch," he said into his mike.

_"Who's Housten?" _asked Moe from the other end.

John rolled his eyes. "Never mind, Moe. Flight, this is Bond 1; do we have a go?"

_"Yeah, yeah, bon voyage, Shemp."_

"Hey," said Sheppard, grinning, "you're learning French."

_"I pick up this and that," _quipped Moe. There was a scuffling on the other end of the line, then Larry came on.

_"Hey Shemp!"_

"Hey Larry."

_"You've got a go, Bond 1. Safe flight and bring back the bagels."_

"...It's 'bacon', Larry, not 'bagels'."

_"You have a go, Bond 1. Safe flight and bring back the _bacon. _There, happy?"_

"I'm really more of a bagel person, Larry," said Sheppard with a grin.

_"Shut up and do your job," growled Larry._

"Yes Mother," quipped John.

Curly came on the comm. _"Okay Shemp. We've uploaded the schematics into your darts, so go by the interface, _not _by the layout of _our _hive. They're similar, but there are critical differences. Don't get turned around in there."_

"Yes sir."

_"Good. Well, get going, you crazy SOB."_

John grinned. "Yes sir."

* * *

A/N: SOOOOO sorry for the HUGE delay. But now everything is over and done with and I'll have a new update soon. You guys are the best for putting up with me and all my crap!


	26. STRIIIIIIIIIIIKE!

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I REALLY don't own SGA, people. Unfortunately, that privilege lies with Rob Cooper and Brad Wright the Traitor, who decided that it would be a 'great' idea to cancel Atlantis for a BSG redo like SGU. Grrr...so mad.

WARNING: This is NOT an episode-esque story, guys. This is a REALLY stupid spoof-like excuse for fiction. But I love it anyways ;) You've been warned.

A/N: Okay, you know what's sad? I've had this story up for a frickin' YEAR and it's still not finished. *sigh* Oh well. Onward!

Chapter 26: STRIIIIIIIIIIIKE!

The other hive ship was quickly approaching. Even though Moe and Todd had jammed the sensors to keep them from detecting the approaching fleet, Sheppard was primed for a fight and had made certain that all his students were also. He didn't want any accidents or any friendly casualties.

"Alrighty now, what say we get this party started?" asked Sheppard into his comm.

_"Yes sir," _came a multi-way reply.

"Now let's get this straight. We go in, we blow stuff up, we cause havoc, quote a bit of Monty Python, and get out. _Cappice?_"

_"Sir, can we--"_

"No, Maverick."

_"Just a li--"_

"NO, Maverick."

_"Oh come on, sir--"_

"DON'T ENCOURAGE HIM, CHUCK!"

_"...sorry sir."_

_"Sir, we're 200 meters out. Stealth is holding."_

Shepard flipped of few of his switches and checked his HUD. "Thanks Ray. Alright, listen up kids. We're splitting into three groups of three. Georgie, Danny, and Ray, I want you guys to take the northern exterior." _That way, Ray can do all the nose-dives he wants and Georgie won't get lost. _"Caesar, you, Dracula and Nemo take out the exterior artillery. _Watch out for counter-measures._"

_"Yes sir!"_

"Chuck, Maverick, you come with me."

_"Shwee-eet."_

"Not a word, Maverick."

_"Sorry, sir."_

"Yeah, you better be. Alright, we'll meet up at the pre-decided coordinates."

_"Um, sir--"_

"They're in your terminal if you forget, Georgie."

_"Thanks, sir," _laughed Georgie in relief. The kid had the worst sense of direction Sheppard had ever come across, ever worse than McKay's.

"All clear?"

_"Yes sir."_

"All right then. Move in."

* * *

_Well, well, it's just like old times, _thought John wryly as he snuck into the dart bay. _This seems to be a habit, infiltrating Wraith ships._

_"Sir? I'm picking up six individual life signs. Should we attack?"_

"No; we're here to crash the party. If we attack so soon, then the only thing we'll accomplish is raising the alarm. Wait a bit, until we get further in."

_"Aw, that's no fun," _pouted Maverick. But he followed orders nonetheless.

* * *

_"Man. Can it get any more boring than _this?!_"_

_"Shut it, Danny. Commander's orders."_

_"Georgie, you suck-up."_

_"Hey--"_

_"Shut up, both of you!"_

_"Can it, Ray!"_

_"We wait for the signal, then we blast this thing to hell. We'd be lucky to hear anything over the racket you two are making."_

_"...Fine."_

_"...I'm hungry."_

_"Oh shut up."

* * *

_All worries Sheppard had previously harbored seemed to evaporate the moment he entered the hive ship. He blamed his flyboy side; the tough corners, the roadblock obstacles, the faster than imaginable speed--it made him giddy.

"Alrightly; Maverick, Chuck, how are you guys holding up back there?"

_"We're good."_

_"Hey, Commander, that drone right there, can I--"_

"No."

_"Just--"_

"_No, _Maverick. I told you, just--HARD RIGHT!"

Sheppard led the turn to avoid a patrol rushing in their direction. Feeling the turbulence in the air, the patrol suddenly opened fire. "Alright, Maverick. Cause all the havoc you want. _Open fire--Flight Plan Charlie_!"

There was a chorus of whoops and cheers on the radio, and Sheppard was hard-pressed to stay quiet; he himself was grinning and eye-deep in adrenaline. "Take this," he muttered, firing off three shots just above the heads of a nearby patrol, whooping as the went flying.

He continued to fly throughout the hive, blasting a few shots off here and there and spooking the patrols. Then he took a sharp left and headed straight for the rendezvous point in the bay.

He was the third one there, after Caesar and Ray. Chuck, Nemo, and Dracula arrived right after him.

"Where are Maverick, Danny, and Georgie?" asked Sheppard after an additional thirty seconds.

_"Not a clue, Sir."_

_"Dittle."_

"...I'm guessing you meant 'ditto'?"

_"Yeah, that."_

"Maverick, Danny, Georgie, come in."

...Silence.

"Maverick, Danny, Georgie...guys?"

There was a burst of static and then Danny's voice came over.

_"Commander! It's Danny."_

"Danny, where the hell are you?"

_"Still outside, sir."_

"You were supposed to meet us at the rendezvous, soldier."

_"I-I know, sir, I'm sorry, sir. B-But Georgie got lost and I had to help him out--"_

"How did he get lost? He's outside a space ship! As long as he keeps the ship in view, there's no way _to _get lost!"

_"I know, sir, but it _is _Georgie, sir. He can get lost in a paper plate."_

"Bag."

_"I'm sorry?"_

"Bag, a paper--nevermind. Where's Georgie now?"

_"He's right here, we're heading to the rendezvous point now, sir."_

"Good, make it fast."

_"Yessir."_

"Have you seen Maverick around?"

_"...No sir. Last I saw him was at the beginning of the strike, sir."_

Fabulous.

"Copy that. Meet up with us, Danny. And don't let Georgie out of your sight."

_"Yes sir."_

Danny disconnected and Sheppard glanced around the bay, cursing under his breath. _Maverick...where the hell did you get off to now?

* * *

_A/N: To everyone who is still reading this after my ridiculously long hiatus, you guys rock!!!!! Thank you so much, I love you guys! Let me know what you thought :)


	27. Crashed the Bird

My Roommate Is a Wraith  
By Holly-Batali

Disclaimer: I really REALLY don't own Stargate. If you sic lawyers on me I'll sic Ronon back attcha.

Also, the line about crash landings is from **A-TEAM, **so I don't own that either!

WARNING: REALLY stupid. This isn't a serious fic, people.

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED!!! **Rossmonster, jodz92, Saiyura, DragonRider2000, masterling, Ambre Kingsword, Scotius, **and **ErisRocks, **this means you. YOU GUYS ROCK!

Chapter 27: Crashed the Bird

Maverick was lost. There was no other way of putting it. He had been so caught up in racing through the hive and pulling stunts that he had made the dumbest mistake in the book.

He had forgotten to turn on his GPS.

He had no starting point to trace his way back.

_I'm screwed._

And that wasn't the worst of it, either. He had done just what Commander Shemp had always said he would do.

He'd crashed his dart.

He'd really crashed it. He'd been nose-diving in the bottom of the bay and had pulled up too late and flew right into a dead-end no-outlet hallway.

"I did not crash this plane," he told himself quietly as he dismantled the cockpit if his repair attempts. "I simply landed it without the customary accompaniment of forward thrust or lift...

"Who the hell am I kidding. I KILLED IT!!!"

* * *

_CLANK!_

The wrench banged against the dart as Maverick threw it. He was desperately wishing he had paid attention that day in class when the commander had taught repairs. He wracked his brain for any details from that lesson.

_"It takes a while sometimes, but darts can usually be fixed. When my team and I were stuck on a planet with a dart, we managed to modify it specifically for human use. If we can do that, than you can manage to repair a carburetor __and a GPS. Here, it's like this..."_

But Maverick couldn't remember anything after that; Ray had started talking to him behind the commander's back about a James Bond movie marathon night and Maverick hadn't heard another word.

Fabulous.

Giving up, Maverick ripped out his radio (assuming that it might work somewhere down the line) and stalked off to try and get to the rendezvous point on foot.

_Why me? _Maverick whined silently. _These things always happen to me.

* * *

_"Any luck?"

_"No, sir. I can't get through to him."_

Sheppard growled. After three extra minutes, they still couldn't locate Maverick, and in enemy territory, delays were fatal. "Interference? Not picking up? Define 'can't get through', Ray, and define it fast."

_"I'm not detecting any interference, sir, but I don't think it's as simple as him just not picking up. His transmitter is still broadcasting, though."_

Well, that was something at least.

"Can you trace him?"

_"Yes sir, but tracing and getting him here are two completely different things, sir. I don't know if we'll have time to--"_

"Less lip more work, Ray."

_"Yes sir."_

_It's like working with McKay all over again. But without the uppity commentary._

_"Uh, sir, we have a problem..."_

_What now?

* * *

_"Not good, not good, not good--"

Maverick's eyes widened as a stunner blast whizzed past him nose, followed by about three more. Skidding around the corner, he returned fire blindly as he ran down the corridors, completely lost.

"Please don't kill me!" he shouted back at the pursuing drones. "I'd make a terrible mess!" He yelped as another blast whizzed past him, sending him bolting down the corridor.

"Not good, not good, not good," he continued under his breath, running as fast as he possibly could. He spied a few low-hanging vine-like cables in the ceiling in front of him, most likely from when his teammates blasted their way through. Running up to them, he grabbed on and swung up, over the attached beam. The drone closest to him ran past and Maverick came down behind him, planting both feet firmly in the wraith's upper back, sending him to the ground, where he stayed as Maverick dropped down onto his opponents back and trampled him on the way out.

"One down, one down, one down," he chanted panting now. Another blast whizzed past him.

"NOT GOOD, NOT GOOD, NOT GOOD!"

* * *

"Whadya mean he's not in the dart?!"

_"I'm sorry sir, but he's not there. I ran the scan twice; as far as I can tell, he ditched the dart and continued on foot."_

"Well as far as you can tell, why the hell would he do tha--" Sheppard grimaced. "He crashed it. I _knew _he'd crash that thing sooner or later. What did I always tell him? 'Give yourself room to maneuver', I told him, time and again." Sheppard smacked his dashboard and cursed. "Lousy punk."

_"I _am _getting a strong life-signs reading coming this way sir. It's pretty big; either there's a patrol, or Maverick's attracted a bit of attention."

* * *

WHAM!_

The pipe smashed into the drone's face and sent him to the floor.

"Two down."

With a side-step, he smashed the pipe into the solar plexus of the next drone, clothes-lining him.

"Three down."

A stun blast blew the pipe out of Maverick's hands and he squealed, the sound a clear offense to all things manly. He scrambled and sprinted down the hallway. He'd lost his own stunner a ways back, but he was fast enough that it wouldn't really make much of a difference anyway. He was never so glad of the stamina he'd gained running away from the instructors and scientists he'd pranked. After all, when you were as rambunctious as he was, you tended to make a few ene--

_"--in. Maverick, are you there?"_

Maverick nearly cried in relief, fumbling for his radio. "Yes! Yes, I'm here!"

_"Finally! Where have you been?"_

"Running!" Maverick yelped again as a shot clipped his elbow, the limb going numb. "A LITTLE HELP HERE, RAY!"

_"How close are you to the bay," _came the commander's voice.

"I dunno...sixty, seventy meters, I think."

_"Good. Keep running and I'll beam you up." _There was a chuckle on the other end. _"Never thought I'd actually have to say that."_

"Yes sir!" Maverick yelled, nearly sobbing. He whooped as the entrance to the dart bay came into view.

_"I'm gonna beam you up, and then we're going to proceed to phase 2, cappice?"_

"Soooo, I'm _not _going to be part of phase two?"

_"Damn straight."_

"...This sucks."

_"Your fault, not mine."_

"Rub it in, why don't you?"

_"What was that, soldier?"_

"Nothing, sir!"

_"Good. Twenty seconds."_

Maverick raced into the bay and saw a heat-wave-like beam coming towards him, at the same time, three more shots whizzed past him. With a yell that may or may not have sounded like a little girl's cry of distress, Maverick threw himself forward into the blinding light.

* * *

A/N: Hey, I only took a week to update! Aren't you guys proud of me ^^ Review, please! There are a ton of you on story/author alert, and I really want to hear what you guys think! Any guesses on what will happen next? Wraith cookies and smoothie of your choice for all reviewers!


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